


Without You

by Zip001



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-22
Updated: 2016-07-26
Packaged: 2018-06-09 21:32:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 18
Words: 24,721
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6924226
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zip001/pseuds/Zip001
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Continuation of my fills for the following Valar Morekinks LJ prompt (note first two chapters are reposted from Sansa Prompts and LJ; and chapter 3 onwards is new and not posted on LJ as I am not going to look for a prompt that fits with the chapter)</p><p>After witnessing her being beaten by the Kingsguard under of the orders of the King, Addam steals her away, breaking his allegiance with his liege lord and committing treason against his King.</p><p>Warnings: they may be random bits of poetry from a non-poet (c'est moi).</p><p>No beta - high wire act with no net. All typos and all grammatical errors are mine.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue Part I - The Turning Point (Three POVs)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Tommyginger](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tommyginger/gifts), [BlueCichlid](https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlueCichlid/gifts).



Still thrumming with adrenaline, Addam Marbrand was brought in front of the King as he stood slightly behind his liege, Lord Tywin Lannister. The young King was cackling about the vast destruction of Stannis Baratheon' fleet and lauded Marbrand for daring side attacks, choking the enemy.

After making promises of monetary rewards and grants of lands to be taken from their enemy, the King turned towards his betrothed, a sad eyed beauty, and announced his renouncement of his betrothal to her and his new betrothal to Lady Margaery, another young lady who was as pretty as she was calculating. Growing up with Jaime and Cersei, Addam saw the same power hunger in her eyes as he saw in Cersei. He stifled a laugh as the Queen Dowager saw the same and sneered at her son's new betrothed.

As everyone's eyes were on preening Lady Margaery, he continued to peer at Lady Sansa, the political prisoner whose fate was now perilously up in the air. But instead of being deflated from the King's rejection or scared, there was a quick flash of happiness that no one but he saw. As he stared at her, he noticed a dark purple bruise on her collar that her tight dress did not cover. It looked new and painful against her pale smooth skin. Addam looked at his lord in alarm nodding to Lady Sansa.

While Lord Tywin's eyes widened seeing her bruised body, he shrugged imperceptibly and whispered under his breath, "Collateral damage - at least he did not violate her or kill her like the whores his mother supplied him." Addam flinched slightly but kept his eyes steady and his face unmoved. His Lord quietly continued, "We have need for her and her claims. Stay close to her."

As she rushed back to her room, Addam followed her closely. So closely that when she stopped, he bumped into her, smelling her scent, a heady mix of lemon and flowers. If she were a kitchen maid, he would have her against the wall as he pounded her. But she was not for him, this lovely girl with such a womanly body.

She stiffened, afraid of being alone with him in his bloodied armor. Her full breasts were heaving, almost popping out of her tight bodice. Her face looked resigned at the punishment she thought he would unleash upon her. His hand lighty brushed the top of her left breast as it gripped her chin. He heard her sigh.

"Lady Sansa, you should not walk alone. I am here to protect you."

"Ser, I thank you for your concern. I bid you leave," she replied as he stared down her dress watching her blush which reached down her chest. As he was still so close to her, he noticed her tiny sprinkling of freckles on her neck that he wanted to lick. Remembering himself, he stood back and bowed. As he bowed, he felt a large presence besides him. Turning around, he saw nothing and when he turned to her, she was gone, already inside her room.

Remembering his lord's instructions, he stood outside her door until he was relieved by his second. As he waited, he thought of her undressing and getting herself ready for him.

Later that night he went drinking with his men and the gold cloaks. The topic veered to Lady Sansa and her beautiful breasts, perfectly round white mounds tipped with light pink nipples. Hearing the men laughingly talk about the king ordering her stripping and beating, he sobered up quickly and felt such disgust for and anger toward those men, the King and himself, as he remembered her innocent blue eyes.

After that night, Addam honored his vows to her and watched over her, seeing her go to the Godswood to pray to her father's old gods during the day and hearing her cries at night. The more he was around her the more he saw her true gentle and kind nature, her kindness to injured Lord Lancel and the sad little Prince Tommen who missed his sister.

Sansa embodied all the virtues of the ladies in the tales of brave knights and their lovely ladies, the tales that he and Jaime loved as children. He soon realized that most knights did not honor their vows and really were just sellswords with slightly better manners (surprisingly, it was the Hound who spitted on vows who was more honorable and true than most). With very few exceptions, the ladies he met were neither kind nor pure, with the extreme case being Cersei who could be crueler than even Gregor sadistically toying with his victims. Hearing Sansa giggle as she played with Tommen's kittens, Addam knew it was wrong but he had fallen in love with her.

It was the day he feared when the King demanded her presence in Court after news of her brother's string of victories. He rushed to find his liege, petitioning him to stop it, blurting that the King would have her killed this time. He waited outside the Throne room as he could not bear to see her being broken and crying. The Hand strode in, and immediately, her beating stopped. He heard raised voices, a slap and then the door opened with his second carrying her naked body.

Taking her comatose body to her room, he heard the other man exclaiming that it was such a shame. He silently agreed and waited outside her room as the maester saw to her wounds and giving her something to make her sleep and feel no pain. When the master left, he entered her room, watching his lady sleep.

He knew he must spirit her away as his liege had planned to wed the sweet lady to his youngest son who was notorious for whoring and drinking and all sort of depravities, many of which he witnessed himself. Because she was so injured, he couldn't take her yet but because she was bedridden, no one was paying any attention to her. The maester told all that it may take up to two weeks for her ribs to be healed and for her to leave her bed. Shaking his head and placing his fist against his heart, he vowed to take her away in a week's time, praying that she would be well enough to travel.

Her room was moved to the Hand's wing near his by order of his liege and was unguarded as no one would dare enter the Hand's wing unless it was the Hand and his men. With his charge being bedridden, he strategized with Lord Tywin regarding the battle formations for the upcoming battle at the Riverrun. Jaime was to lead that battle and was set to leave in two days. Jaime successfully petitioned for his friend Addam to fight alongside him. Instead of looking excited at the news, Addam's shoulders drooped slightly but he tried to sound positive about co-leading the military campaign.

That night, he drugged her and bundled her in her warmest dress and furs and carried her hidden under his large cloak. His war horse already held their change of clothing and dried foodstuffs to last them for four days and nights.

Reaching the stable, he saw a shadow of a man and immediately reached with his free hand his sword.

"Peace, Addam, it is I, Jaime," hissed Jaime.

"Jaime...." His hand never left his sword as he gently laid his charge on the soft hay. He stepped protectively in front of her and stayed in a defensive fighting position.

"Addam, we can bring her back to her room. No one needs to know. If you go through with it, you know my father would hunt you down. He trusted you more than anyone with the exception of his brother Kevan.... you are the son he wished he had."

"Jaime, I love you and your father but you don't understand...."

"Nay, I do. It is how I feel for Cersei. I would do anything for her as I could see that you would do the same for her."

His head fell down and he vowed, "I would not dishonor her. I mean to take her home."

"They would string you up and kill you. You are known as the Lannister commander who routed and killed many of their men."

"I would sacrifice myself for her. I could not even prevent her last beating.... I deserved death for not protecting her," he cried.

Both men looked away, and Jaime walked towards him and grabbed his arm before he turned to leave them.

Jaime said quietly, "Addam, you are a better and stronger man than me.... You always were. I will give you a head start before sounding the alarm tomorrow - ride fast and hard and don't look back!"

=======

When the Queen Dowager rushed out with her poor son Tommen in tow upon hearing news that the walls have been breached, the women began to cry hysterically. Sansa tried her best to comfort them, these women who sneered at her and looked down on her in court, and calmly told them that they needed to be brave and that they should not give up hope, even though she felt so hopeless as regardless who won, she would still be a prisoner as her brother was a threat to both King Joffrey and Lord Stannis.

She heard screams and loud explosions and tried to remain calm. Trying to distract herself, she sang which hushed the room.

When the large door swung open, her heart fell when the men dressed in Lannister colors streamed in. Unlike the Gold cloaks, they were disciplined and awaited the command of a tall copper haired (the color slightly darker than her oldest brother) man who strode in. He commanded them to search the other rooms with a small group remaining with him. With his arms raised, he told the ladies to wait until his men searched the keep for enemies of the King, as many of the ladies stared pointedly at her. Disillusioned, she returned to her room, knowing that nothing will change.

Later that night the King droned on endlessly his delight of the decisive defeat of his uncle, the Pretender he crowed. The audience shifted uneasily as he continued to shout and give monetary rewards (of coin she knew he did not have) and grant lands (that she knew that he had not yet seized) to one man or another. She did not pay any attention until he gave much deserved honor to his grandfather, Lord Tywin, (who he named as his Hand) and his commander, Ser Addam, the copper haired leader she saw earlier that night. She gasped in recognition; and she saw him look at her.

What she heard next from the King pleasantly surprised her, and she maintained her courtesies when he rudely threw her away for another lady, a pretty girl who she could not help but feel sympathetic for.

During the long ceremony, she felt Ser Addam's heated and appreciative gaze on her body, the same looks that other men gave her. Something about his stare made her feel uncomfortable as if he could see right through her courtesies and her clothes. She noticed his staring at the bruise by her collar and his whispering with the new Hand.

After the ceremony, she rushed to her room as she heard footsteps behind her. Afraid that one of the men would rape her now that she was no longer the King's betrothed, she ran and stopped when she got to her door with a large hard body crushing her and pinning her against her door.

Whimpering quietly, she felt him sniffing her hair. She could not remember what he said or her response later that night but blushingly remembered his ungloved hand gently brushing against the top of her heaving breast, how she was so sure that his little finger brushed her nipple. In her bed, she gently touched her breasts and her nipples, imagining him touching her.

The next days Joffrey's guards no longer guarded her but were replaced by Ser Addam during the day and by one of his men at night. He always gallantly held out his arm for her to hold, accompanying her to the Godswood, the gardens, and to the meals. Unlike that first day she met him, his behavior were always respectful and chaste, keeping an appropriate distance between them. Yet she felt his approval and appreciation for her actions and her courtesies, so different from how others in the Court treated her. At first, she was confused about his motivations as she could no longer believe that there could be any good men in the South. It must be a trick!

Unfortunately, she was correct as he promptly brought her in front of the King who proceeded to have her stripped and whipped as the King laughed hysterically to her screams. She turned to Ser Addam but he was gone. He deserted her!

Closing her eyes, she cursed herself for believing that he could be different from the others (just as weak as Ser Arys and perhaps as cruel as Ser Merlant) and fainted with the physical pain and emotional betrayal she felt. The Hound was correct that there were no true knights; and she was a stupid fool to believe otherwise!

=======

The little wolf bitch was right that he did not deserve the gift of mercy. He killed many - many who he would argue deserve it (although he knew they didn't and their only mistake is being on the wrong end of his blade) and many who he would say were so stupid that they deserved their fate (he would add the idiotic butcher's son in this category). But what he regretted the most are his actions or lack of actions involving his sister.

He didn't understand at first that she was truly kind and good as he thought her kind words and courtesies were falsities and stupid words she parroted. He was wrong! And he did nothing to stop her beatings, instead bringing her to the King, watching her be humiliated, stripped and beaten in front of the Court, just like the others he called as weak and stupid. But the person who was truly weak and stupid was himself because some true knight did save her and brought her home untouched, even knowing that he would taken prisoner and face death or worse in the hands of her brother and his forces.

He cried, wishing that he was a better man and wishing that death could take him away. He could have taken her away after the Riots but brought her right back to her prison. And his words to her to just take the abuse made him ashamed as he realized much too late that it was her passivity that enraged the King more, subjecting her to more pain. He watched the King send away or quickly dispose the whores that fought back while toying with the ones who did not.

He thought of Addam who he had to admit was not only a capable warrior and brilliant strategist but also a decent man, one of the few he met. At first when he and Arya heard the rumors of Addam's daring rescue of beautiful Sansa, he scoffed, knowing of Addam's deep ties to the Lannisters, his close friendship with Jaime and Tywin being almost a father figure to him. How could only a few weeks with Sansa wipe away the years with the Lannisters? He couldn't believe it but then he remembered the little bird's goodness and light and then understood how a good man like Addam would be forced to save her!

Dizzy with loss of blood, he thought that they would be a perfect match - him, tall, copper haired and strong; and her, tall for her age with beautiful red hair and so fair. They would have beautiful babies unlike his with her, he snorted. All red headed and tall - the girls kind and gentle and the boys strong and just. His last thoughts were of her big smile as she looked at her family - so beautiful....

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a repost of a chapter from Sansa Prompts and LJ. I reposted it to give background for the third chapter. I may decide to totally rework the first two chapters.


	2. Prologue Part II: Escape and Reunion

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a repost of a chapter from Sansa Prompts and LJ. I reposted it to give background for the next chapter. I may decide to totally rework the first two chapters.
> 
> There are two direct Tywin quotes from GRRM: "You cannot eat love, nor buy a horse with it, nor warm your halls on a cold night." and "It's the family name that lives on. It’s all that lives on. Not your honor, not your personal glory, family."

As her eyes fluttered open, there was so much brightness. Almost blinding, but she could barely make out that she was laying atop the well muscled legs of a large hooded figure and that they were moving fast as the scenery were whipping by her, making her dizzy. She could not see his face which was darkened against the glare of the bright sun atop them.

She closed her eyes and realized that she felt no pain, just softness as she was swaddled in soft fine furs and covered with a fine woven cloak with her arms and legs immobile as they were tightly bound by the furs.

Has the Stranger taken her at last? She wanted to laugh at the sheer irony that once she finally found small moments of joy - playing with Tommen's kitties and walking through the beautiful gardens with seemingly gallant Ser Addam escorting her, that it was all taken away from her. She recalled reading one of the plays about the comedy of life with her poor septa - at the time, she did not understand that the gods had no mercy or concern for mortals but instead toyed with them for sport. It mattered naught whether one was wicked or good - in fact, it was the wicked and evil people who were often rewarded while the good and honorable, like her poor father, were slaughtered like sheep. She thought there may be exceptions as she and Tommen both idolized Addam who played with them and took them seemingly far from the gaze of the King and his even more spiteful mother.

But then she remembered his treacherous eyes, looking downwards and not looking into her eyes, the day that he promptly took her to the King to be stripped and whipped for the many victories her brother had won. It hurted so badly but she remembered each strike meant her brother was winning and it made her be able to withstand the pain. She heard his gasp and that was when the pain returned as Ser Addam looked quickly away and walked away. There are no true knights! She was a stupid little girl like what they all said - the King, his mother and the snickering court. Remembering the betrayal to her heart, she started to cry softly and her body trembled with her sobs.

The riding motion slightly slowed down as a large calloused hand began stroking her face gently.

"Lady Sansa, we will stop shortly but we need to make significant distance from Kingslanding. Bear with me please. Please don't cry. I will take you home," the hooded man spoke quietly to her as he held her gently against his armored chest. She looked at the crest on the armor and lightly traced the raised metal - an orange burning tree. 'House of Marbrand... But how? Why?'

She tried to look up at the darkened face, eyes blinking her flowing tears away, but she could not make out his face. His face got closer to hers and he buried his face in her hair as he kept saying, "Please do not cry. You are safe with me." She recognized that voice, the voice of a gentle man who told stories of knights and ladies to Tommen and her. The man she trusted against her better judgement.

"Ser Addam?" she whispered.

"Aye," he whispered into her ear. She thought she felt a gentle kiss on her hair. 

======

She was so very pale and so still, swathed in soft furs and covered by his extra cloak. Seemingly as fragile as a porcelain faced doll.

Yet he saw her steely resolve as she stood regally before the mad king. When told of her brother's treachery, she merely stated the truth that her brother was traitor to King Joffrey but never truly denounced her brother. With every lash, she did not break like he seen most grown men being whipped. She whimpered softly but did not beg for mercy nor did she curse her brother. Her eyes were full of tears yet burned bright with defiance.

She was a fighter. He knew she would awake.

As they rode further north, her body grew colder to his touch yet he felt like she was growing stronger, not fading. Her warm breath against his neck became stronger and more regular as the cold winds blew so hard that he pulled his hood up. Winter is coming.

When she awoke from her drugged sleep, she cried with relief and surprise; and he wanted to cry, begging her forgiveness remembering her look of betrayal as he took her to the king. But he had to be strong - he would not let her down again.

When they finally stopped after two days of hard riding, switching from one horse to the other he took, he had to tend her wounds. Lowering the top of her dress down to reveal her back, he cursed his body's crude reaction to her half nakedness. Even though her back was marked by angry lashes he lovingly cleaned and applied poultice to, he saw how her unbroken ivory skin was so soft and smooth as the finest silks, her neck so graceful, her waist so tiny against the swell of her perfectly round bottom - he wanted so badly to turn her around so he could truly see (and perhaps touch) her breasts which he knew were more beautiful than what the men all said in the brothel. He sighed, trying to quell his body's reactions.

She was so weak initially that he had to feed her by partially chewing her food. Instead of spitting the chewed food onto his plate and then spooning it into her mouth, it felt so natural to place it gently in her warm mouth with his, their lips gently touching. The feeding always ended with him kissing her until they were both breathless. But his hands always remained above her neck - he would not dishonor her.

At night, he hung a hammock high in the trees for her to lay chest down and layered soft furs on her while he rested below next to the weary horses with his sword by his side. He dreamed of her atop him, his sweet lady wife.

After a week, she was strong enough to walk a bit without aid yet he never let her out of his sight. Even dirty and covered with horse sweat, she was so beautiful when she smiled, when she smiled at him. Her smile grew wider when they come to a small stream where they bathed together, his eyes determinedly never leaving hers while her gleaming eyes boldly swept over his strong naked body. It took so much willpower to not make her his that day.

But he must stay strong otherwise there would be even less chance her brother and mother would allow him to stay with her. He wanted so badly to be with her forever, to wake up to her sweet smile, to hold her in their marriage bed, to kiss her and touch her all over, to worship her and give her pleasure. And he knew the chance of that is slim to none if he took her to her family, but he knew that taking her back home was the right thing to do. He would always do right by her.

And he could hear in his mind Lord Tywin's seemingly calculating voice telling him that a man should never be ruled by his cock. 'You cannot eat love, nor buy a horse with it, nor warm your halls on a cold night.' Yet Addam remembered how his lord was with his late wife - it was clearly a match of love. He remembered how he would see the two slowly stroll through the gardens, the secret smiles and their tender looks of love - he wanted that. He wished his lord would understand and forgive him.

======

He shook his head as he thought of his lord, his betrayal of the man who raised him and who trusted him. He closed his eyes, wishing that it didn't have to be this way. Lord Tywin confided in him that the king was a stupid fool like his mother but he was family. 'It’s the family name that lives on. It’s all that lives on. Not your honor, not your personal glory, family.'

He did not disagree but he did not want his name to ever be connected to King Joffrey (hopefully the last of his name), who plummeted the kingdom into turmoil, instigating raging rebellions from all sides (he expected to Dorne to soon invade as the kingdom was weakened), saddled the kingdom with massive debts that even his lord would not be able to satisfy, squandered their advantage of numbers by insulting and alienating their allies and by not paying their forces who defected in droves - in short, King Joffrey ruled so ineptly that even mummers would do a better job. His lord could not even control his grandson, even after he exiled his daughter to Highgarden kicking and cursing like a lowly kitchen wench. This could not be the legacy his lord wanted to leave, a Lannister king even madder than the crazy king he helped overthrown.

He turned to look at the King of the North, barely a man and much ruled by his passions. Both Addam and his princess, armed with a small knife that he told her to use to protect herself against even himself if need be, quickly saw the many heated glances the King foolishly gave to his healer as the Freys disapprovingly looked on as the King was betrothed to a Frey lady. Yet despite his foolishness, King Robb was a solid leader, displaying strong military tactics and an ability to rally and inspire the Northerners who for the most part followed him with such loyalty. He was more than thrice the king he last served.

But it was his lovely princess he served, such a contradiction - a woman child, gentle yet tough, generous yet demanding, innocent yet so wise and beaten but never defeated.

His heart almost bursted with pride as he saw her masterfully free the poor Lannister/Frey boys, the poor pawns of war. She quickly confronted her brother when she saw the conditions the shivering boys were in - filthy and torn flimsy clothing, malnourished and thirsty, bruised and bloodied from the rocks thrown at them.

"They are nothing but children, the oldest slightly younger than our Bran and the youngest slightly older than Rickon. Father would not have caged them and would have not let those men abuse them. We are Starks - we are better than this, much better."

Theon (he saw his type before - loud and confident but insecure and scared little boy) foolishly interrupted her to say they were prisoners and were treated as such.

"Life is not a pretty song, you should know that by now," the stupid squid sneered as he disgustingly leered down her dress.

His princess turned to the boy and poked him hard on his chest, pushing him back.

"Theon, you forget yourself. You are a prisoner of war yourself - you well know that if your father rebelled, you will pay the iron price in full. But until that time, as you were just a child and apparently still a child now, my father treated you well as my brother will treat those poor boys."

Her brother looked ashamed as he saw his friend gape in surprise. He nodded quickly, and the crying boys were released to her. Sansa held each boy's hand in her hand as she whispered that "all would be well."

While he was held by two giant Northerners, he gazed at her, willing her to leave with the boys. There is naught she could do for him, without besmirching her reputation. She must understand. But he saw her whispering to her brother and her mother while looking at him as they both resolutely shook their heads and as her mother glared at him with hatred in her eyes. The King held his hand up to silence her and nodded to his large Umber boys who pushed him roughly into the small cage that previously held the boys. Before she left with the boys, she quietly begged his giant of a guard to treat him well, to act as a true Northerner, just and with honor.

"Please, Smalljon."

The guard nodded and bowed his head with his hand on his chest. He expected curses, rocks thrown, and severe beatings but the guard kept his promise, admonishing other men who got near to move away - telling them that he is a valuable prisoner, the trusted commander of Lord Tywin's army. When they fed him, he was given fresh hot food and plenty of water. The giant man handed him a fine black blanket with direwolves embroidered at the edge. The man quietly hissed, "I am not doing this for you - I am doing this for the princess. If you hurt her, my brothers and I will tear you apart, ripping each limb from your body."

Finally, he was brought to the King of the North amidst much grumblings by the disgruntled Freys and the Boltons. In the tent, the King was flanked by two women who fought to control him, his mother and his not so secret lover, while the princess stood to the right of her mother. Her eyes lit up when she saw him and she discreetly smiled at him and swept her gaze at his guard who tended him well and nodded approvingly. The lords of the Northern houses lined the tent.

The King asked, "How do we not know you are a Lannister spy?"

The Northern lords shouted slurs and voiced their agreement with many eying him much suspicion.

He remembered all the lessons his lord taught him, how to manipulate and deceive and how to protect the secrets of the Lannisters as his family will be well rewarded for his silence and continued fealty. But then he looked at his princess, and he realized that he could never betray her, never!

"You don't. You only have my words and my vows to keep the princess safe."

He kneeled in front of her pledging to serve her and her house until the rest of his days. He disavowed his lord with a heavy heart, but his lord, who he greatly respected and admired, permanently aligned himself with a cruel king. His lord taught him to look at all angles and to know when to attack and when to change direction. Sometimes hard decisions are made and each man is ultimately there for himself. He had to do this - for her, for the kingdom, for himself. The princess will be his family, his legacy.


	3. Fathers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is Addam's recollections of their time together during their flight from Kingslanding.

Even after he was released from the cage and was granted limited freedom, they would not let him be truly alone with his Northern princess. One or more of the Umber boys trailed them. He was never allowed to be near the Lannister cousins. They feared he would steal the boys away when he really wanted to steal his lady away, like the stories she told him about the wildlings stealing their women. When he was not interrogated by Robb and Blackfish for information about the Lannister positions, he was only allowed fifteen to twenty minutes with his lady, with the giant Umbers glaring at him. He relished those moments of hearing how well the Lannister cousins, his kin too, were doing and how grateful she was that he was helping her brother, but mostly just having her smile wash over him. Often, he would recall their flight from Kingslanding, remembering how close they became.

At the beginning, Addam noticed how curious she was and how she always wanted to learn, wanting to contribute and to help him with their camp when she got physically stronger. Her bright eyes would watch him as he make fire, and she always made him smile when she leaned down next to him, blowing the embers with her cute lips pursed. Watching him, she noted the angle he struck the flint and the dryness of the tinder nest when the ember caught. She also learned how to tend the flames, never feeding it with too much wood but rationing the wood so the fire would not die on her watch. Cunningly, she always took a handful of dry branches and leaves wrapped in her handkerchief wherever she found any and placed it in one of their waterproof oilskin bags. Her thoughtfulness saved them from a few cold nights when everything was damp from rain even though it was only on those nights he could hold her in his arms under the pretense of keeping them both warm. It wasn't merely her body heat that lit his body on fire.

He found himself teaching her how to scavenge for food as her young eyes, so used to fine needlework, was quick to find edible mushrooms and berries. He was surprised that she had some knowledge about flora from her lessons with her maester. When he saw her looking questioningly at him when they stopped for the night, he knew she wanted to know why they stopped in that place rather than some place before. But instead of telling her why or what to do, he found himself asking her what she thought, making her come up with the answers herself. She always laughingly teased that she could never get a straight answer out of him, but he could tell that she delighted in trying to get the right answer! So eager to learn and almost ravenous for his attention, she devoured the survival "lessons", the same that were taught to him years ago.

It started with a seemingly innocent question. "Why?"

Addam knew exactly what she was asking as she looked away, shocked at her own outspokenness. Everyday he could her question in her eyes - why did he serve the Lannisters?

"My lady, Lord Tywin is like a father to me... He is not a perfect man, but neither am I." 

He never said that aloud before, not to anyone, not even to his lord. But many knew - his lord, of course, the three Lannister siblings who each resented it in their own way, and others too. Cersei was unsurprisingly bitter and when she was very young, she actually spat out that it was because he had a cock and she didn't. The Imp was more disappointed by the attention his father gave Addam, but he always tried to make a joke of it, saying that the more time his father spent with Addam the less time his father spent berating him on his whoring and his drinking, in short, all the things that gave him joy. But the worst was the confusion in his friend Jaime's eyes when he saw Lord Tywin spending so much time with him. He wanted to get his father's attentions and often complained to Addam that he thought his father did not see him - only seeing the fierceness of his twin sister and the depraved actions of his little brother and now he only saw his best friend.

Jaime excelled in almost everything he touched - many laughingly would say that he had the Lannister golden touch. A golden boy. He made everything seem so easy as everything was to him. He rarely broke out a sweat. Although he could finish any match at any time, he often toyed with his opponent before he soundly defeated him.

Yet in the training grounds, Lord Tywin's eyes rarely focused on Jaime but instead were trained on his matches with the Mountain, the matches he fought with such desperation. He did not want to maimed - while the Mountain knew better than to harm a single golden strand of hair on Jaime's head, he had no such qualms with Addam or any of the other men. In his bouts with the Mountain, he utilized all dirty tricks he knew, throwing dirt into his eyes, tripping the giant, baiting him about the small size of his cock (he still laughed at that particularly bad tactic and marveled that he was still alive), aiming his blows to the giant man's legs. He barely won many of those matches but his wins were not pretty (and unfortunately, his losses were even uglier with his nose bearing the brunt of the Mountain's ire).

At the end of the training, his lord would meet the Mountain and him and stare hard at them both, with the Mountain quickly bowing his head and walking away with a little less swagger as he knew who was the truly dominant one. Addam always stayed behind, breathing heavily and awaiting one of his lord's pronouncements for him to mull over the rest of that day and night. 

In his first bout when he tried to merely deflect the violent blows and parry with little effect, his lord huffed, "Honor is for those who could afford to lose" (he knew damn well that no one could truly afford to lose, not even the wealthy Lannisters) and "No victory was won through defense alone". As he was neither as fast nor as talented as Jaime with the sword, he started to use tricks and attacked the Mountain's legs to topple the big man down. Addam knew that the Mountain couldn't use his weight to shower blows down on him and his head while he was on the ground, and he knew that Clegane's legs were the weakest parts of his body. Not only was it not covered by heavy body armor, it was not as developed as the Mountain's upper body. The giant was shaped like a gigantic toy top and with just one hard kick or swipe of the sword to his legs, the giant would fall like a sequoia tree felled by an axe, shaking the earth with the hard impact. Although he knew that his lord was pleased with his progress, he rarely complimented him. After what he coined as the "small cock brawl", his lord actually laughed and warned him, "One does not poke an angry bear unless one wishes to die."

After many years, he finally had the courage to ask his lord why - why did he see promise in him? He was not a great swordsman like Jaime, not nearly as ruthless as Cersei, nor as clever and quick witted as Tyrion. His lord did not answer immediately, and the long silence made Addam regret asking. 

But before he could beg pardon for asking, his lord said, "Do you think that it is the fastest, the smartest, the strongest, the fiercest who wins?"

He knew that it must be a trick question, and he struggled to find an answer that wouldn't disappoint his lord.

Addam answered, "Sometimes, but often it is the luckiest who wins."

His lord chuckled at his response and responded, "Indeed, the best of men could be defeated by bad luck... But one can create good luck, especially one who wants it more than anything, one who struggles and truly fights for it, one who learns from past mistakes, one who doesn't complain when he is always paired with the Mountain... or not complain too loudly.... And you do have a hard head!" He then roared with laughter as he remembered Addam's last bout which was won by a head butt. Addam couldn't help but join in.

He would tell his lady of these fond memories of the man who inspired him to be more, wanting her to understand his relationship with his lord, wanting her to truly understand him. 

Lady Sansa, in turn, confided in him about her father. It hurt him to see the pain in her eyes. While she loved her father, he caused her so much pain, like the pain Jaime felt, but to Addam, it felt many times worst. His lord would never place Jaime in the situation that Ned placed his daughters. 

While she never voiced her anger, only regret and shame in her actions, Addam was furious at the dead man - the man who callously placed his young daughters at risk, who kept his eldest daughter ignorant of the risks, whose own stupidity and sense of honor caused him to lose his own head and resulted in the beatings of his daughter and the loss of the other, likely killed, raped or in some brothel. Ned was a fool! Foolish to not realize his lady's worth and intelligence! And any fool should have known better than to threaten Cersei's children - everyone knew that there is nothing more dangerous than a mother protecting her young.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have such an obsession about fathers - especially the relationship between Sansa and her father Ned. I often want to scream why?????
> 
> Re Cersei, I think she has cock envy. That's it (yeah, I realize that it was not profound or deep but that is my headcanon for her - lol).


	4. The Fight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They are in Riverrun for Lord Hoster Tully's funeral.

They never truly fought until now. 

She was screaming at him, her blue eyes flashing dangerously, her face flushed red with rage and her tiny fists clenched. Then when he said those fateful words, she flinched as if she was slapped and stepped back from him in disgust. She finally saw the man before her, finally realizing what he would and could do, finally realizing why he was feared as much as the Mountain. He tried to explain that he would do anything for her but she held up her hand and stopped him from further speaking. She did not want to hear his words nor see him again. Her eyes were filled with so much distrust and such disgust and even fear of him. 

Desperately, she tried to bind him to her will - to vow not to harm or cause harm to her and her family, including her brother's unborn child. Under the Old Gods, the New Gods and whatever gods or devils he prayed to, even his Lord Tywin. 

She also wanted him gone. "Leave and never come back."

When the door shut behind him, he heard her sobbing. After leaving her room with his head bowed, he sat on his bed trying desperately to figure what he should do. He gave her his word but wouldn't, couldn't leave her. 

But what good was his word? He heard Lord Tywin's angry voice yelling in his head. He was a traitor and cannot be trusted. He pledged his sword and his loyalty to the House Lannister and yet he betrayed them and spirited away their most precious treasure, the Northern princess who also had ties through blood with the Vale and the Riverlands. Lord Tywin told him of her political worth, explaining why he had to bind her hand in matrimony to his dwarf son, a Lannister no matter how unworthy he may be. With her future marriage to Tyrion, House Lannister would hold the keys of four of the seven kingdoms.

Lord Tywin always told him wryly that everything and everyone has a price and that not only did Lannister always pay their debts, the Lannisters were always able to pay that price in full, if necessary. As an example, he pointed to the obese Septon who always looked the other way when Lannisters are involved and was resplendent in gold chains linked with large red rubies. Sniffing with disdain, Lord Tywin sneered, "Deprive himself and lead a simple life of devotion and faith? I think not." 

His Lord prided himself in being able to determine that price, not necessarily what the other man wanted or even needed but what he must have, that weakness. Often the weakness is love. Love of food, love of money, love of wine and opiates, love of sex, and the most foolish love of them all, love of another person so profound that one would do anything for that person. No person is worth that sacrifice his Lord would scoff, drilling in him to not form such attachments and to rely on no one as people are weak, will only disappoint and leave. That at the end of the days, a man has to be prepared to do whatever it takes. 

Yet his lord did not see her true worth. For if he did, she would have been the Queen Consort to King Joffrey.

To Addam, she was worth everything he previously held dear - his honor and the vows he gave, his fealty to House Lannister and to the current King of Westeros, the name of his House (the Marbrands being Lannister bannermen and kin), and everything he thought he held true and that he thought defined him. He gave them all away for her.

It wasn't merely that she was beautiful. She was, even in the ill fitting child's clothing she was forced to wear in Kingslanding. It wasn't merely that she was an innocent, merely in the wrong place at the absolutely worst time. Without much regret or even hesitation, he led his forces to wipe out and plunder villages that contained many who frankly did not truly care who sat on the Iron Throne. He did what he had to. It was her innate goodness - that even after everything that has happened, she would care for two Lannisters who needed comfort and aid. He never thought fondly of Lord Kevan's weak willed son but wished to be him when his Lady gently tended to his wounds. Lord Tywin would likely scoff at her stupidity of her actions but Addam saw that grace and instead realized the sheer stupidity of the Lannisters and that mad king to break his betrothal to her.

She would be a worthy Queen, much worthier than Cersei and that Tyrell bitch. He could see given an opportunity, his lady would shine, her natural grace would help foster and build alliances and that the common people would love her and that many, including himself, would fight and die for her. It was such a waste and such an outrage that they sought to break her body and spirit and take away her dignity that she had more in her tiny toes than all the fawning lords and ladies in the Court combined. The future queen did little if anything to stop her abuse, instead seemed to encourage the derogatory words thrown at his lady, to besmirch her honor and to bring her low, although it was widely known in Court that Lady Margaery previously befriended and courted the attentions of his lady. When the King set Lady Sansa aside, Lady Margaery quickly did the same. Both he and his lord noted Lady Margaery's inconstancy of character as others surely did, knowing that her overtures of friendship and acts of kindness were not true but conditional on whether it benefited her. The Rose Princess was much too obvious. 

Shaking his head, Lord Tywin blasted his grandson, who many, including Addam himself, believed was his grandson twice over, for being seemingly besotted with that conniving young lady, and his lord muttered under his breath that she would likely be the death of the young King. Both knew that his gracious lady would never act that way. His lord even whispered late one night in his cups that the little Northern princess reminded him of his late wife Lady Joanna. She shone so brightly.

And yes, he did want to fuck Lady Sansa from the first night he saw her and every day and night since. That he acknowledged every morning when he awoke with his cock stiff and hard, every bath he took when he took the edge off, and every breath he took while he was in her close company, trying to breathe her in. 

But that wasn't the real reason why he stole her away and why they were fighting. He loved her. Perhaps foolishly, nay, definitely foolishly.

He realized only by the grace of the Gods, for she is his goddess who fought for his release, guilting both her brother and mother as she made sure that her mother saw and her brother knew of the latticework of scars marking her lovely back, he was still alive and "free" from much abuse (that was also thanks to her as one of the giant Umber boys always kept an eye out for him). He knew that he could never truly be with her the way he wanted, even if she were willing. And it killed him, as he knew she was, smelling her desire for him when the day came to the close and he guarded her safely to her room.

Perhaps his love colored his opinion of her, but he found her brilliant. He recalled the Imp noting in passing that she wasn't stupid. She was far from a stupid bird parroting what others told her.

He knew that to be true. During their flight from Kingslanding, they had plenty of time to discuss many things. Like the way his Lord would debate certain matters with him, they would take turns on being the one who makes the opening argument, while the other cross examines and puts forth an opposing argument for further cross examination. His lady's mind was surprisingly agile with her rarely falling for his diversion ploys to expend her mental energy on minor points he planned as decoys to concede any ways. She often dispensed them away, and then she either went for the jugular with a powerful closing argument when his position was poorly thought out, remembering his lord's words to "Kill first", or coolly waited for his inevitable mental misstep before pouncing.

She was frankly a more than worthy opponent, and he often thought that his Lord would have been impressed with her keen mind. At the end, because she quickly learned how to not let her emotions overwhelm her reason, and because sometimes he got distracted by the sparkle of her knowing eyes and the quirk of her full lips, she won more often than not. Yet Lady Sansa was always gracious in victory, never patronizing, and even in the very rare defeats, looking at him with such adoring eyes. She would later tell him that she thought he was being gallant and letting her win, which was sadly the case at the beginning but not at the end.

And that was why he was so surprised at her screaming at him for telling her to do something she knew was right. Her brother was a fool. Even the other fools, like her overly emotional and frankly unstable mother and her feeble minded uncle, knew that his breaking his betrothal to the Frey lady was extremely stupid. Only his brother's fool, Theon, the fuckboy, supported him. All of his key advisors passionately argued against it but his lady was silent, just staring sadly at the growing distance between her mother and her oldest brother. The only concession her brother made to his grieving mother was to wait a week after his grandfather's ship burial to make and announce his final decision. 

But it was clear that his mind was already made as he so foolishly fucked his lover loudly every night. The stupid woman screamed his name; and every morning, the Freys looked more and more angry and rebellious. It was known and accepted that almost all men had mistresses or fucked whores but the key was to be somewhat discrete, a lesson the late King of Westeros forgot perhaps to his regret. Addam suspected that Cersei had a hand in her husband's death, but he never questioned his lord or his friend. He did not need to know. Better that he not know.

Addam waited for his lady to speak privately with her brother for two days. On the second night, he went into her room in the guise of hearing noises in her room. After a short while, he pulled her into her room, with her slightly resisting.

She knew what he was going to say and wouldn't hear it, cutting him off by hissing, "It was not your place nor mine to speak of this, and not to my brother. He is the King of the North; and that is his decision to make, his alone."

While he would normally go against her, he could not remain silent. He told her that because her brother is a king, he could not make this decision alone. If he were merely any young lord at any other time but now, his actions only reflect poorly on himself, his lover, and their houses. However, that was not the case - her brother's actions would be the death knell for him, and for her, her mother and her people. His lord would hear of this act of sheer stupidity and would definitely exploit it. Furthermore, the Freys would exact revenge as her brother's actions dishonored their house, even though it was widely known as the least noble of all of the houses. And that this act against their house cannot be forgiven. They would demand her hand and kill everyone. She knew it too - he saw the slight tension in her carriage any time she was near the Freys and their men who openly ogled her when the Umber boys were not around. 

Frustrated at her stubborn refusals to listen, he told her that he never thought her stupid like the way Joffrey and his mother Cersei thought of her. Although that did anger her and set off her yelling, that was not what make her send him away.

Finally, he exasperatedly asked why.

"She is with child," she whispered sadly as if that was the end of their argument. She sounded so much like what Jaime told him of her father, always trying to do the honorable thing.

He blurted, "We can take care of that." With those words, any trust she had in him were gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had so many difficulties with this chapter. So many false starts.


	5. The Lady is the Key

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is Sansa's POV once the door is closed.

As the door was slammed shut, she fell to the floor in a wet sobbing heap.

Only her pride kept her from breaking down in front of him, from letting him see how much his words truly wounded and shook her. Sansa tried to stay strong, not retreat and show any signs of weaknesses - everything he taught her and lessons she unfortunately learned before as mad Joffrey loved to see her cry. She scrambled desperately to find the right words to bind him, air tight vows that he couldn't cleverly bypass and circumvent them - no harming, no wounding, no killing. She knew the futility of her efforts as she could tell from his eyes that he would do whatever it takes to protect her, even if it meant turning her heart against him. When he reluctantly gave his word at last, she found to her distress that she no longer trusted him, and that broke her heart.

Ser Addam was not a true knight she thought he was, but he was not wrong.

But... but how could she deny her brother happiness when she herself wanted the same, to wed the one she thought she admired and loved? 

After catching one of her rare moonstruck glances at her Sword, her brother took her aside a fortnight before and questioned her about Ser Addam. While he and his mother knew how the man felt about Sansa, his mother felt sure that she was still a maiden, that she would never sully her name nor her House. 

Robb was not so sure. He knew how heated glances could lead to kisses, so sweet at first and then so heated, until they were breathless. To touches, first lightly tracing her face, her brow, her cheek bones, her jaw, and then more possessive grabbing further down. He shook his head, flushed with embarrassment. 

They shared a horse - did they share more?

At first, Sansa was so embarrassed as she didn't want to imagine her brother that way or ever discuss this with her brother, things she was sure he said to Theon, but in more graphic terms. Then she wanted to giggle at how he posed the question. 

But then she realized the implications of his question. If she was somehow soiled, she no longer could wed any of the first sons of his bannermen (except perhaps the very remote possibility of the Umbers who seemed to adore her but who already were firmly allied to him and their cause). Did he mean to betroth her to his best friend?

Perhaps he wanted an excuse to kill Ser Addam, but even he knew the value of keeping him alive. Addam's insights and advice were invaluable as they were able to surprise the Lannister forces at their weakest points, taking a few more prisoners for ransom but most importantly, taking their supplies and food.

But she could see in Robb's eyes, the eyes of their father, no subterfuge. Maybe he was just curious because his lady voluntarily submitted herself to his attentions and he wanted to know if she did the same. 

Sansa shook her head. He never touched her (although she did not tell her brother how she yearned for his touch, her dreams at night, her daydreams, leaving her so wet for him when he walked her to her room at night) and she had not lain with him. He was a knight (even though she knew he wasn't truly like a knight in the songs she loved). She was still a maiden.

Surprised, Robb released his breath. He thought she would understand him, unlike his mother who wouldn't and couldn't. He confessed everything - that he loved his lady; she was pregnant; and he was overjoyed and more than a bit scared about the news. He had to do the right thing - he was the one who seduced Lady Jeyne and got her with a child. He wanted his sister to support him - he was so sick of his uncles' and his mother's berating him. He was not a little boy - the North elected him King of the North!

Seeing his hopeful eyes, she just held him and whispered that she loved him and knew he would do what is right, but she could not speak against her mother. He left her room with a lightness in his steps, believing that she supported him. 

Arya was right - she was such a liar, saying only what was expected of her!

Almost everything Addam said, she thought many times before, even imagining Walder Frey demanding the rights of the first night. She shuddered with disgust, bitter bile rising up her throat. The Freys were weak men with a large chip on their shoulders - the most dangerous of men.

But what could she even do? Why did Addam think she could do anything? Why would her brother listen to her when he did not listen to her mother, her uncle, or even her great uncle, Blackfish? She was not his elder - she was his younger sister. Other than their last discussion, he never asked for or really listened to her opinion.

Almost frantic with panic, her mind quickly flashed all of his words - "The Freys will kill everyone" and "We can take care of this" and "The Lannisters always paid their debts". She just saw blood - her brother's head rolling like her father and her mother's head on a spike like her poor septa. Crying uncontrollably, she hugged herself and rocked back and forth.

'No! No! No!' She cannot succumb to panic. She must be brave. With shuddering breaths, she realized that it was not too late. She must think - there must be a way! 

Instead of focusing on her brother whose resolve was strengthened every day, his pride was stoked by the battle cheers and cries of his men and the endless prattle of his friend and sycophant Theon, she should focus on Lady Jeyne. They never really talked, only politely greeted other. Sansa would ask Lady Jeyne to join her for tea, knowing how happy her brother would be if she voluntarily reached out to her in contrast of their mother's distance and obvious dislike for her. 

But she noticed how her mother, Lady Sybell, did not approve of Robb nor did she approve of her and Addam being her Sword, another person she needed to be wary of. House Westerling - they were sworn to House Lannister, considered among their principal bannermen. But then so was Addam's house, House Marbrand. But she was not sure if she could trust him, not after what he said - she knew that he wouldn't blink if some mishap were to happen to Lady Jeyne or her babe. 

Restless, Sansa barely slept a wink. There was an ache in her heart, feelings of sadness and regret and worry that Addam would heed her rash words and leave. Her mind kept seeing his sad eyes at the end when she yelled at him to leave. She did not want him to leave. Alas, what she truly wanted, she could not have. 

'We can take care of that.' 

Those words just shook her as she imagined that he would somehow find a way to have Lady Jeyne, or the unborn babe, or both killed. But maybe he meant something else - perhaps shuttering Lady Jeyne off to the motherhouse to have and live with her babe, like all the rumors she heard about her late aunt Lyanna. Or perhaps she and Addam could take Lady Jeyne as her lady and pass the child as their own, naming the boy Ned after her father or the girl after Addam's mother, Annabell. The last idea was just silly as she should know that life is not a song, at least not a song of true knights and their lovely ladies.

With some sadness, she thought of Sandor Clegane who always scoffed at true Knights and wondered what happened to him - many say that he fled from the green wildfires. She remembered the words he spatted - that all men are killers, even her father. When Sandor yelled at her, Sansa thought he hated her and was trying to be mean and to scare her. Only afterwards, she realized that in his rough way, he was trying to help her, trying to get her to realize these hard truths of life. 

But would her father ever harm or think of harming ladies and babies? She heard the awful rumors of how Princess Elia and her babes died and wanted to believe that her father had no part in their deaths, but now she wasn't so sure. Addam told her that it was not her fault that her father was executed, that her father actually warned the Queen and that led to his death. Maybe he warned Queen Cersei not only because of his honor, but as a way to assuage his guilt for what happened to the former princess and her children. And she recalled her bitter words to Theon, would her father execute a mere boy? Thinking about her father, she decided that he wouldn't knowingly harm ladies and babies, but he would reluctantly do his duty with respect to Theon. Her father was a man of his words.

Was Addam a man of his words? He betrayed his lord, whom he openly admired and loved. He made vows to her - would he betray her too? Somehow she knew that he would not, that he loved her as much as she loved him. She could see that in his eyes. It was because of her, he left his lord and committed treason against his king. And when he spoke those words, those words that shook her, he was so scared and angry for her. In fear or anger, she thought of much worst. She once wished she was an only child! She just wanted her father's attention.

Addam told her that he was not perfect, and she knew she was not perfect despite what her sister said. She remembered overhearing Old Nan telling one of her mother's maids that to truly love a man, she can't only love one part of him - she had to love him warts and all. That made sense to her now although she still didn't understand why Old Nan and the maid laughed bawdily at the beginning of her advice. 

A few words spoken in anger and fear cannot erase all their moments together. Ser Addam actually talked with her and he really listened to her, only snorting a few times about her naïveté (she still remembered with embarrassment how she told him that she didn't want to hurt anyone when he taught her how to use the knife he gave her and that she always had on her body or had nearby). Even though she was much younger than he, he respected her opinions even when he didn't necessarily agree; and she should respect his too. He made her feel like she was worth more than all the gold the Lannisters had, even the ones yet extracted from the gold veins underneath Casterly Rock. And when he kissed her at the beginning when she was so weakened... She cannot think of that - she had to get up and find a way to talk to Ser Addam to beg him not to leave her.

She also had to talk to Lady Jeyne.

At first blush, one would think there would be many similarities between Lady Jeyne and her - both young ladies who were taught by maesters and septas. Both in deeply in love with a man who they shouldn't be in love with - Robb, a man already betrothed to another, and Ser Addam, a man who led forces against her brother and her people. Although Ser Addam would never touch her inappropriately (she was embarrassed about wanting him to touch her, nay lick her like the way she heard the kitchen girls gossip about their trysts, when they bathed together that one time), she knew that she would never allow anything to truly happen - her septa told her that men are oft ruled by their passions and that it was important for the lady to cool and quell such passions. Perhaps Lady Jeyne loved her brother so much that she risked everything, her honor, her house, to be with him, like the way Ser Addam loved her. Sansa counted on Lady Jeyne's love to save her brother, and to save her. 

The lady was the key.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I doubled the length of this chapter to show more of the progression of her thoughts (after reading TommyG's comments) and if I were to be honest, to add Old Nan to the story (I just love her). 
> 
> Sansa is still a very young girl, forced to grow up too fast. 
> 
> I see her like a sponge, listening and absorbing and learning. Now it is her time to squirt (ugh, this analogy sucks so badly - lol!!!!). What I mean is now she is going to act and apply what she has learned.


	6. Way of the Warrior

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The next morning - Addam's POV.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As an update - in the prior chapter, I almost doubled the length, trying to better describe the progression of Sansa's thought process - from freaked out/scattered to something more focused/analytical and more introspective/empathetic.

As soon as there was a sliver of light in the horizon, Addam bolted out of bed. There was no use in stewing on what he should have said (not blurting those bloody words - he wished he could take them back and his yelling at her) and what he should have done (ruefully musing that perhaps they wouldn't have fought so bitterly if he kissed her like he wanted to). He had to do something and release all of this pent up emotions and sexual frustrations.

In the training yard, he saw the Umber boys just thrashing each other, while laughing and teasing each other. They were good men he realized. At first, he had to admit he was a bit jealous when Lady Sansa spoke to Smalljon on his behalf and how the giant looked at her with such admiration. But then he realized that they viewed her as their honorary little sister; and they were very protective of her and rightfully concerned about his intentions towards her. 

If he took the three on, it would take all of his efforts to come out of the match with only a few bruises. They would try to impart a message to him as he was trying to do the same to them. But he knew if he took them on, they would begrudgingly respect him - respect his fighting skills and his willingness to fight for her. Even though he knew that winning this fight wouldn't truly solve anything, he wanted to show the Northerners what he could do and that they should respect and fear him. It was the way of the warrior, to show who is the dominant one.

It had been a long time since he really fought, but he felt the fire burning inside him. He sneered at the Freys, laughing at the thought they sought to take his lady. They were not worthy of her.

He then stepped in and blocked Smalljon's blow as he kicked the other Umber boy in the leg, watching the tall man fall like the Mountain. Now the match was between him and the two standing Umbers. They worked well as a team, fighting together for years. Slashing and pushing him back, he was losing ground but then he saw her shining red hair from afar, that gave him an added burst of speed as he locked up Smalljon's blade and used Smalljon's body as a broad shield to slam against his younger brother's face. The middle brother got up and started to swing at him with an axe which he barely evaded. He somehow got a hold of Smalljon's other sword and tried to fight using both swords, trying desperately to hold them back, both now enraged with his dirty tricks. 

He could hear a familiar sharp intake of breath and he immediately ducked, just missing a blade, and decided to tackle Smalljon to the ground, rolling him on the ground as they both instinctively let go of their weapons (as it would be do no good to pierce oneself). It was an all out wrestling brawl as the men all crowded around them, shouting encouragements to Smalljon who pounded him and hissing when he got a clean hit. The boy was so big and strong and had so much stamina. He could not last much longer, but he wanted so badly to not let his lady down. He wanted to make her proud of him again, wanted to see again her adoring eyes on him. Head butting the oaf, the man went limp. His lord was right - his head was hard!

Addam turned to look at her. He wanted her to know that he did this for her, that he would always fight for her, no matter the odds, that he loved her. Although her face seemed passive like it was in Kingslanding, he could see a slight twinkle in her eyes. She forgave him. He didn't hear the cheers or feel the back slaps he got from the Umbers or the rest of the men. He only saw her, her proud eyes looking at his swollen eyes - he proved that he was worthy of her, his Northern princess. The Freys should better be afraid, especially now that he had the Umbers on his side.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is very short but I wanted to see if I could write a fight sequence with multiple combatants. It was bloody hard especially when neither I nor Addam knew the names of other Umber boys. I wanted Addam to win but stacked the odds totally against him.
> 
> Regarding Sansa's reactions, I could see it going either way - pride that her manly man was so manly or irritation that he went all cave man. I decided that she would like it - why not? To be honest, I thought it would be a good strategic move on his part, to win over the Umbers and many of the Northerners - hopefully, you agree.
> 
> Let me know what you think of this short chapter.


	7. The Choice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sansa's POV after the Umber battle royale.

Pressing an icy cold cloth against her eyes and face, she tried to clear her mind and center herself, just as Addam taught her. She could not let all of her scattered thoughts, fears, and frustrations get the better of her. She must remain focused and calm as she had likely only one chance, one chance to stop what seems to be the inevitable. 

The lady is the key... The lady is the key... The lady is the key.

She kept hearing those words repeating in her head. But which lady? 

She did not think it was her mother who no longer had any influence over Robb. They used to be so close, almost as close as her mother was with Bran. But that changed after he fell in love with Lady Jeyne. Her mother's blue eyes, instead of being full of pride, looked disappointed and angry, almost as if she was the one who was slighted, not the Frey lady who was betrothed to Robb.

Sansa could not decide whether she should focus on Lady Sybell or Lady Jeyne especially with the former being already disapproving of the match. However, Sansa felt like Lady Sybell was hiding something and was not to be trusted. Addam told her that she had great instincts and thought she should trust them when she told him her thoughts about the Hound, of thinking he was much more noble and kind than Joffrey, Lancel and frankly most of members the Court, including the ladies who were vipers, speaking in forked tongues. That is when she realized who Lady Sybell reminded her of. Lady Sybell was almost as bitter as Cersei and both looked down on the North, always looking like they smelled something bad.

Her best chance must be with Lady Jeyne. Hopefully, she could convince her to tell her brother that it was a false alarm and tell him to wed a Frey as it was what he promised, what would the best for the North and for her too. If the Freys were to rebell, she would imagine Lady Jeyne and her unborn baby would be among the first to be killed. It was a horrible thought, mainly because she could truly see it happening if Robb were to break his betrothal. 

She could do this. 

She heard a loud ruckus outside and immediately thought Addam left without her. She hurriedly dressed and went outside to see the disturbance. As she got closer, she saw Addam battling all three Umber boys who were bigger than most men, only slightly smaller than their father Greatjon. Already at the scene were her mother and Lady Sybell with both of their lips pursed in disapproval as well as Lady Jeyne who seemed to enjoy the fight. 

She couldn't believe it! He told her that they needed to be viewed as not being threats and to not stand out, for her to pretend to be that innocent girl who left Winterfell. Yet he was making a scene! All the men had their eyes on the match, including her brother who passed a knowing eye on her. Robb warned her that her Addam was jealous of her friendship with the Umbers, especially Smalljon who sometimes picked flowers for her as she reminded him of his late mum.

She tried to keep her face passive because she couldn't stand it if her brother started teasing her about this. Also, she could see Lady Sybell stared at her as her daughter whispered to her excitedly that her Sword is a magnificent fighter. 

Although irritated, she privately had to agree - mesmerized by how powerfully he moved, almost like a wolf taking down a large bear. His shirt wet with sweat was plastered to his strong body; and she remembered how well muscled he was the first and the only time they bathed together. She only seen her father's men and her brothers sparring bare-chested in the short hot summer. However, none of those men or boys compared to him. He was the Warrior come to life - perfectly proportioned with his strong legs, round ass, supporting his equally hard torso topped by broad shoulders and arms. Not an ounce of fat on his body while the Northerners tend to be stockier folk to withstand the harsh winters. He was not as hairy as those Northern men as some even had hair on their back (she remembered thinking they were part bear), but the hair on his chest that trailed almost delicately down to his crotch made her want to touch and pet them, to trace his muscles with her fingers and her lips. She had to stop thinking about that day! Thankfully, her cold compress treatment had numbed her face which would have turned bright red.

When Addam's elbow connected with Torrhen's nose and blood spurted everywhere, Lady Sybell left the field in disgust, muttering "Barbarians."

Sansa then saw the middle brother rose up and swung his axe that Addam barely evaded. Fighting with two swords, Addam was able to block most of their thrusts, but he did not see the youngest coming from behind. She could not help gasping with fear and saw Addam ducking and then barreling into Smalljon into the ground as they took turns swinging at each other, rolling in the mud. It was brutish and unsightly, but she felt such heat as she instinctively knew Addam was fighting for her, showing the other men that she was his. For every three blows from Smalljon that he mostly blocked, Addam only landed one blow, which were mostly clean and aimed at Smalljon's stomach. Her man was tiring as Smalljon seemed to get stronger, sensing imminent victory. It ended with a loud head butt - Lord Tywin was right that Addam had a hard head!

When Addam got up slowly and a bit unsteadily, his look was so heated that she wanted to melt in a puddle. But she knew that all were looking at her and she kept her focus as her mother was hissing at her about the unsightly scene her Sword was making. She noticed that most of the Northerners, including the Umbers and some of the Freys, clamored towards him, congratulating him. They were battle worn warriors who fought opposite him, but yet he earned their respect. 

He used his head to his advantage, and now she had to as well. 

As Lady Jeyne prattled about the bout, cooing about how strong Ser Addam was and how big the Umbers were, Sansa made the appropriate comments about how skilled all the combatants were and worried aloud about their bruises and small cuts that needed tending. With her small nudging at her mother, Lady Catelyn called a young boy to fetch the maester as Lady Jeyne requested the men to come to the side hall that was used as the infirmary to get their wounds stitched. Known for fine needlework, Lady Sansa followed, with her mother glaring at both girls. But instead of following the girls, Lady Catelyn followed after Lady Sybell's wake.

The two older Umbers mumbled and declined any stitches and left to wash up the mud and the blood, but Sansa forced them to take back with them some bandages, ointments and needle/thread, admonishing them to make sure that they clean themselves well and to tend to their cuts. If left untreated, minor cuts could lead to blood poisoning and death. 

Knowing that she wouldn't be able to hide her feelings if she tended to Addam, she began cleaning Torrhen's nose, noticing that it wasn't broken, and lightly tore two small pieces of cloth to put in his nose to stop the bleeding. Before he left, she also gave him a cold wet to press against his nose to stop the swelling while Lady Jeyne tended to her Addam, cleaning his bare upper body with a wet cloth before she stitched the small cut on his side. She couldn't help but feel jealous that another woman was touching him, but forced down her irritation and asked her how she learned her healing skills and mentioned how Robb talked about her healing hands. Lady Jeyne just blushed and giggled.

With Addam's eyes locked onto hers, she tried hard to have Jeyne talk about Robb and her feelings for him, but Jeyne just giggled nervously. At first, she thought Jeyne was such a silly git, but then she remembered the giggles she had with Jeyne and Beth and forced down her irritation. Sansa realized that with Addam there, Jeyne may be too embarassed to say anything so she had to do the talking about Robb, hoping that she understood what he meant to the North and understood the sacrifices they all had to make.

Sansa decided to start with her parents, how her father had to leave her mother right after their wedding to go off to fight and how he returned to her because it was right. Her brother taking on the mantle of King of the North because it was the right thing to do. The sacrifices he and his mother made, leaving their beloved home and leaving behind the Stark boys at home, because it was right. That as a King, Robb had responsibilities not only to himself, his family but also to his people. What he wants is second to what is needed to be done for the North. He needed to unite the forces, to ally himself with the Freys as he needed to cross that bridge, he needed to defend the North against the tyranny of the mad King whose forces were pillaging villages and raping women and children. When Addam and she fled Kingslanding, they saw many villages in ruins. That a poor decision could lead to bloodshed and innocents being slaughtered, telling her of how her father's household were cut down with their heads, even her septa's, grotesquely lining the walls of Kingslanding. She ended with telling Jeyne that when her father came back with a bastard, her mother took him in because it was right; and now he is the Lord Commander of the Night's Watch, fiercely defending the North. 

Sansa did not know if she got through to her as she watched Jeyne's expressions changed from outrage and anger, to fear, to surprise, and to something that looked like begrudging respect. Like herself before she met Addam, Jeyne probably had no one who really talked to her about such grave matters, matters impacting not only her small world that contained her family and household, but the world at large. Sansa remembered being always told what to do, but rarely why. Before Addam encouraged her to think more broadly, she could not remember a time when she felt that she had a true choice. And she hoped that Jeyne understood that she had a choice and that she could make a difference.

She tried her best. It was all up to lady Jeyne. 

The Lady is key.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wanted to have Sansa sponge bath him but couldn't figure out how to make it work. Perhaps a porny dream sequence.....
> 
> With the words "The lady is the key" in her mind, I am thinking of somehow having it be somehow mystical or magical. Whose voice is Sansa hearing? Is it her thought or something else, something beyond her world? I probably will not pursue this but leave here as a note to myself.


	8. A decision made

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sansa and Addam finally have a moment together; and was that Lady Catelyn smiling at Addam?

After that show he gave in the training grounds, her mother insisted that Addam no longer was allowed to escort her daughter to her room without at least four men trailing them. Her brother smirked as Sansa looked imploringly at him as she was led away by a slew of Karstarks and her Sword, who knew to keep his distance from her - her lady mother would clear her throat every time he was within a foot of his lady.

The Karstarks were a merry group of men, laughingly trying to separate the couple with Harrion cheekily holding her arm as the arse turned around and stuck his tongue at him. The Northerners lacked discipline. His lord Tywin would never allow any men to tease his daughter, much less his sister. He remembered his lord telling him how as a young boy, he stood up against his own father for betrothing his sister to a Frey.

Addam wanted to talk to his lady - tell her he was sorry, tell her that he loved her, tell her he could never leave her. He was so proud of her when she spoke to Jeyne with such respect, the way he should have spoken to his lady, not talking down to Jeyne as if she were a witless child but instead speaking plainly and yet with so much grace, trusting that an informed Jeyne would make the better decision and implicitly empowering Jeyne to make a decision about her future, something that most young noble girls would never even dreamed of having. His lady was as brilliant as the stars above!

Yet he held his tongue as the bloody Karstarks led her to her room and laughingly slapped his bruised back and pushed him into his room. 

Alone, Addam crumpled on his bed in pain, too achy to even remove his pants or tunic or shoes. He couldn't even move - perhaps, Lady Catelyn was right to have more guards for her daughter since he couldn't lift a sword much less get his body out of bed. Everything hurts - he even thought his eyeballs hurt, with one eye swollen shut. He knew that he looked like he fought with three bloody bears, because he bloody did!

He heard a soft scratching sound and his Sansa's voice asking if she could come in. 

Not sure where the voice was coming from, he brokenly said, "Yes," as he tried unsuccessfully to get up.

Popping out of a hidden door, Sansa rushed in and quickly hugged him, and then she noticed how his body stiffened in pain.

"Oh, Addam, my brother said that Smalljon couldn't even get out of the tub this morning and has been bedridden ever since." 

Sansa was clucking about him, removing his shoes and wrinkling her tiny nose at the smell. When she started to remove his pants, he tried to squat her hands away. 

She stared him down and huffed, "Lady Jeyne did not treat the wounds on your legs; and I know the maester never came as he was too inebriated from the funeral feast. Maester Luwin told me that untreated wounds fester and could fell even the strongest of men."

She then pulled down his pants and began to administer to his leg wounds as he tried unsuccessfully to not think of her between his legs doing other things with her hand and perhaps with her mouth. Luckily, his long tunic covered the large tent that he finally had the sense after fifteen minutes to cover with his large hands.

When she tried to pull his tunic over his head, he held his tunic firmly down, grounding out that Lady Jeyne had already stitched his wounds.

His lady sniffed and pulled her hands away, looking a bit miffed. Addam knew that he did something wrong - he recognized this look, the look that Cersei gave Jaime when he inadvertently made her jealous. He realized that his lady was jealous of Lady Jeyne, who could never compare with her in his eyes. He wanted to laugh aloud but knew it was better not to.

With a sigh of pain, he reached out to grab hold of her hand. 

"My lady, there is only you, my brilliant, sweet, beautiful and kind girl. I only see you... I should have not said those words to you last night. I am sorry - I should have not doubted you. I would never leave you."

She smiled wetly at him as he kissed her tiny hand.

"No, I should not have screamed at you. I didn't mean it when I said I wanted you gone." Her lips were trembling and she began to cry earnestly. "When I heard the noise in the morning, I thought you left and that the men were raising alarm about your escape. I was so scared." 

He wanted to hold her so badly but he could barely move so he began to pepper her tiny hands with kisses.

"I would never leave you - I would take you with me first before I let anyone take you," he vowed.

Still hiccuping, she whispered, "I am so scared.... I don't think anything will change. What if Lady Jeyne didn't understand me? What if she didn't listen? I probably should have talked with my brother..."

Addam interrupted her, "No, my lady, he would have not listened - not to you, not to your mother, nor your uncle and great-uncle. You are right. You going to Lady Jeyne is the only chance, however slim. If she did not understand or listen, that is no fault of yours, only her own, and likely her last mistake, if her mother hadn't already taken care of the babe."

Sansa gasped in horror, "She would kill her unborn grandchild???"

"If it meant saving her skin, she would do anything. Not everyone is like the Starks, so honorable. And not all everyone is as brilliant as you, my lady, the brightest star in the sky. I am so proud of you, but I need my rest."

Sansa grinned at his praise. She pulled the furs atop him and exaggeratedly over his tent, as she winked shamelessly. 

As soon the hidden door closed, he sighed and grabbed himself, trying to relieve the aroused state his little lady always leaves him in.

The next day he noticed something different. Neither Lady Sybell nor Lady Jeyne were breaking fast with the Starks, and the young king looked furious, glaring at both his mother and his sister. 

The young king dismissed the men once they finished eating. Once the heavy doors were shut, he heard muffled yelling from the king. He stood by the doors which were barred by Theon and the Karstarks; and he made show of placing his hand on his sword, letting them know that he would cut through them if his lady was in any danger, even danger from the king, her brother. Robb's men looked warily at him, remembering how he routed the Umbers with Smalljon still not able to fight.

Then he heard a lady yelling - her voice was much harsher than his lady. This was followed by the sweet voice of his lady trying to seemingly trying to placate both her angry mother and her equally angry brother. Her voice went on; and there was silence and some crying. He couldn't tell if it was his lady. Then there were softer voices talking - both male and female.

Finally, the doors opened, and the Starks stepped out together. With his hand holding the hand of his mother and his other hand holding the hand of his sister, King Robb pronounced that Lady Sybell, Lady Jeyne and their men have left the camp last night. They are traitors to the North - but they are not to be hunted down by his men as he needed all the men to fight in the upcoming battles. They would need to change their battle plans, but it was for the best the traitors were gone. 

All the men shouted, "Winter is coming!"

Addam released the breath he was holding and looked at his little lady who looked so torn - so sad for her brother yet so relieved. Her mother saw their looks and nodded at him with a slight grin, the first time she didn't sneer or glare at him. He quickly grinned back at her and then quickly became serious as he tried to recall if the Westerlings were in the battle room when he was interrogated by Robb and Blackfish. He wasn't sure. After the interrogations, he was escorted to his room as decisions were made based on his intelligence. The ladies could have been present during those times.

But battle plans can always be changed. The wolves could still defeat the lions.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I could not think of a way for the pair to meet up.
> 
> The backstory for the hidden doors is that when they last visited Riverrun, the Stark kids learned about all the secret passages from their mum (or maybe from playing hide and seek).


	9. Shovel talks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Addam has nighttime visitors; and Sansa has a talk with her mother.

Since the night that Sansa tended his wounds, he was waiting in anticipation that she would visit him again especially now he felt much better. Remembering her nose wrinkling at the smell of his feet, he made sure to wash up carefully but quickly (he did not want to miss her) before he retired to his room. But every night since, his anticipation was for naught.

He heard knocking on his door, but it sounded too loud and from the wrong door. He heard male voices by his door and he immediately opened it to find Blackfish and Greatjon looming by the doorway. Seven hells!

He backed away and they came into his room, making it feel even smaller than it truly was. Greatjon towered over him; and unlike his son, whose eyes were guileless, he looked at him with knowing eyes. Blackfish was also marking him as he walked around the small room, holding up a small ribbon he found by his bed table.

"Lady Sansa's, I presume?"

Addam stifled a rude response that he knew Tyrion or even Jamie would have blurted (asking whether the fierce warrior lost his ribbon or perhaps his hair brush) and grounded out, "She is a sweet girl believing in true knights and ladies giving favors to their knights."

Blackfish got into his face and glared, "She is a girl - you remember that. While she looks and may feel like a woman, she is a girl... While she looks like Cat, Sansa is more like Lysa, so fragile and so gentle and so innocent and so full of dreams. She is not for men like you, or me, or Greatjon here... She is meant for one of those summer lords of the South, who only write letters, breed animals, star gaze... She is to be protected, protected from men like you." 

Addam was roughly pushed into the Greatjon who continued to glare at him. 

"I saw the thrashings you gave my boys, especially my eldest. But know this, no tricks of yours would work with me or Blackfish here. I would tear you limb by limb apart if you so much touch one strand of the little princess' hair. She is a sweet thing, too good for you."

He tried to look steadily at both of them, both armed, while he was foolishly not. He wasn't sure if he could defeat either one separately but knew even if he were fully armed, he wouldn't be able to defeat them together. He also needed them, the young king's best advisors, on his side and their side (for his side is to always be by her side).

"I would never dishonor her. I know that I am not worthy of her." As he said the second sentence, he realized how much he meant it, that he wanted to be a better man for her, one she truly deserved.

Both older warriors nodded and backed away from him, relaxing their stances and making towards the door. But Blackfish stopped before exiting the room and turned around.

"You would do anything for her, your lady. Best you realize what is best for her is what is best for her family, for the North. Her interests are always aligned to her brother's, the King of the North. He may not be wisest leader being young but he is learning. He can learn from you. And you can learn from him, about the North."

Blackfish waited a few beats and then said more softly, "You know that she is not for you. When she is to wed another, you need to step aside and do what is best for her. She deserves every happiness...."

Addam knew this and nodded sadly.

When the warriors left his room, their words remained inside his head for many hours. He knew all the words that they said to him although he never spoke of them aloud, hoping that if they were not spoken, they would not come true. He did want what is best for his northern princess and he knew that Blackfish was right that he was not right for her, blemishing her name with him being a bloody turncoat, even though he betrayed his lord and king for her. His lord always told him not to dwell on things he could not change - he could not change that she is a Stark, that he is a Marbrand, that she is princess of the North destined to wed to strengthen her brother's alliances... But by all the gods, new and old, he wished he could change that all, wished to have her by his side as his lovely and gently lady wife. He would be willing to be pounded by Smalljon (and even his father) thousands of times if he could see her bright blue eyes looking at him so proudly as she did the day he bested the poor Umber boys.

======

[Note that this scene happened days before Blackfish and Greatjon visited Addam.]

When her mother called her to her room, Sansa knew that they would talk about her relationship with Addam and how their behaviors reflected poorly on her, her house and her brother. She did try to be discrete but both her mother and brother knew, even the silly Karstarks knew.

She steeled herself for the harsh scoldings, like the ones her mother gave to her brother about Lady Jeyne. But Ser Addam was worth a thousand of Lady Jeynes. Sansa did not dislike her but found her immature and fickle - truly not worthy of her brother. While Ser Addam seemed more like a solid, solid like a majestic oak in comparison to the flimsy willow trees she likened Lady Jeyne to, that bended with every wind gust.

She came in, prepared to defend him to her mother. 

What she did not expect was to be greeted with a tight hug. Crying, Sansa could not remember the last time she was hugged like that - it felt like all of the years she spent in Winterfell with her loving family were so long ago. She missed this, missed being held by her mother - it felt like they were home again and father was just outside rough housing with the boys and Arya. 

They held each other tightly and her mum was first to break away.

"My sweet, sweet girl... how you have grown." Catelyn wiped away her tears.

When she looked at her mother, she could see herself. Her fierceness and loyalty when it comes to those she love. She wondered if she would have done the same things her mother done - capturing Tyrion that started the war, leaving her children to help her son lead the North, take her half brother Jon in and treated him the way her mother did. She did not know. To her mother's defense, it is easier to make decisions with the benefit of hindsight and even with that benefit, a decision wisely made could still be thwarted by an illogical move(s) by another. The mad King, her former betrothed, and his mother acted in ways she could never imagined or fathomed being done - they were truly evil and it was right that her brother and North fought against that, to rid the kingdom from such sickness of mind and pure evil.

"You know the story of how your father and I married?" her mother asked.

Sansa nodded.

"It was not necessarily like the songs and stories you love. I was betrothed to his brother, who was so gallant and so charming - when I was your age, I thought he was a true knight or a young handsome prince... When he died, I married your father as it was the right thing to do. We did not know each other and we did not love each other at first. And he betrayed me."

There was a silence as Sansa squeezed her mother's hand.

"But we learned to love each other. You, my sweet girl, was born from our love. Your father was so happy that he had the bells in Winterfell rung all day to herald your name day. You know that you have to marry for duty?"

Sansa nodded sadly. She knew - she had thought of all possible scenarios but could never see one where she would ever wed her true knight and have beautiful red haired babies.

"Men are oft guided by their passions as your septa has instructed you. Therefore, you need to conduct yourself in a manner to not give him false hope. Even a small smile of yours or a gentle touch on his arm could cause him much suffering when the time comes for you to do your duty."

With her throat constricted, Sansa answered, "I know. I don't want to hurt him and won't hurt him."

She started to cry again as her mother's arms enclosed her once again. Instead of making her feel comforted and safe, it made her feel imprisoned and helpless.


	10. Defend

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Greatjon makes a defensive move - will it be enough?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The deception/double the pleasure quote came from Machavelli.

The rest of the week was busy as the troops were finally ready to leave Riverrun. One group was to head to the Twins for the King's wedding while the other was to lay siege and occupy Casterly Rock. Every able bodied men were training and getting their blades sharpened and repaired. Supplies were gathered for the two groups with the first group leaving for Riverrun and the second leaving a week later.

The constant training and military strategy meetings kept Addam very busy, but not too busy to notice how distant and sad his lady was, her carriage slightly stooped and her smiles seemed forced. They had no time together as Smalljon took over his duties as Lady Sansa's protector since he was needed in the numerous meetings with the King's war council as they reworked their battle plans. Addam did not even know if he and Sansa were to be separated as the king had yet to make public who was to be in what group. Addam hoped not. He missed her so much. He only saw her red hair from a distance as she was tasked in organizing the gathering and sorting of the supplies for both groups.

He suspected that he would be part of the second group and would be called to fight against the Lannister's main forces led by his best friend. Thinking about fighting against the men he previously fought alongside and against Jaime made him nauseous and much saddened. But he had no one he could confide in, but for her. 

Addam took most of frustrations out in the training grounds. The Umbers were the only ones willing to spar with him. The Karstarks were rightfully worried that there would be retribution for their having fun at his expense, and the Freys were intimidated by his glares and growls. Even with the fearless Umber boys, only Smalljon would spar with him one on one.

During a break, Smalljon whispered, "Addam, er, my father and the King has arranged for me to wed Lady Sansa. She does not know yet... Her mother will tell her tonight, and we will have a feast to celebrate the news. My father wants to speak with you in the armory after dinner."

Staring at the young man in rage, Addam tried to stay calm but could not speak. Instead, he guzzled the water, and when they began again, he tried to punish the poor boy who wisely focused on blocking his slashes and keeping him at a distance, even pushing him away from him. Greatjon still had to separate the two and hissed for both to stop it!

Greatjon took Addam to a stockroom. He shooed the servants away and closed the heavy door.

"Addam, I did not take you for a fool. We talked about this."

"When you spoke with me, you meant for your son to wed Lady Sansa. Why did you not tell me?" 

"My son is a good man. He worships her. He knows she is a fine lady, so gentle and kind. He will protect and care for her. You know that."

He wanted to disagree but knew that of all of the men in the camp, Smalljon and his brothers were the only ones he trusted with his lady. They were always respectful to her. Smalljon was the heir; and while the Last Hearth was not a large or prosperous keep, it was well-loved by its people. And he knew that Lady Sansa really cared for the Umbers too, sewing and mending their clothes. He noticed that among the Northerners, with the exception of her brother, she was the most comfortable with the Umber boys and was often found scolding one or more Umber boys for the poor condition of their clothes or for their disgusting table manners (the youngest one still ate with his mouth open). He saw them laughing together. She could be happy with him; and he would do everything to make her happy. 

He nodded reluctantly.

Greatjon continued, "When we spoke, I was not thinking of this betrothal, but I had to act quickly as the King was hard pressed by the Freys to have Lady Sansa wed a Frey - given his disrespecting their house by his loud fucking of his traitor mistress every bloody night, they were not satisfied with merely the King and Lady Arya joining their house. I could not let that happen... I had to keep the Ned's daughter safe... Lady Sansa confided to Smalljon about your fears. And I agree. I don't trust the Freys and never have - they are bloody weasels fighting on both sides and always flipping depending on who will pay more. That means that with Lannister always paying their debt, they will betray the King."

Addam indicated that Lord Tywin had been regularly corresponding with Lord Walder for years.

He remembered his lord grimacing with distaste when he talked about the Freys. He recalled wondering aloud why they had to deal with Lord Walder, who was always doubling his prices even after the deals were agreed upon. 'Lord Walder has his uses and when he doesn't, well, it is double the pleasure to deceive the deceiver.' His lord knew who he was transacting with, but the young king was too foolish enough not to realize. Even though the Freys were thwarted in getting the biggest prize by the quick actions of Greatjon, he couldn't help worry that they would not stop trying. No matter how repugnant Lord Walder was, he was no fool.

"We - you, me, my boys and the little lady - will be part of the second group. I don't want Lady Sansa to be anywhere close to the Twins. Blackfish will be with the King, Lord Edmure and Lady Catelyn in the first group. Lord Edmure is to marry another Frey girl so that the Freys now have ties to three of the seven kingdoms as they already have marital ties to the Westerlands."

That made sense - the young king's indiscretions had such a rich price. He thought of their efforts, his and his princess, and wondered if they were futile if it weren't for the intervention by Greatjon. Addam understood why Greatjon made that move - he would have done the same if he were in his shoes. He rather have his lady with the Umbers than with the bloody Freys. The Umbers were always loyal to the Starks and had always held the line for the North.

Gripping his shoulders hard, Greatjon continued, "You cannot disrespect my son nor my future good daughter, who will bear the future heirs of my house. Do you understand? While I would want you to help keep her safe, I cannot have you disrespect me and mine."

Addam saw that Greatjon had a live blade while he still only held his dull practice sword. He saw the seriousness in his eyes - that he meant what he said. He did not want Greatjon as an enemy, and most importantly, he wanted to live another day. 

If he couldn't be with her, he would want her to be happy. 

But he did not know whether he could be able to be her Sword when she was married to another - he never understood how Jaime was able to do it. He saw how it ate into his friend's soul and destroyed him. Although Jaime hid it well from most, Addam knew that almost all of his jokes and cavalier attitude were just a front - that Jaime was pretending to be happy and proud when he was sad and so insecure. Once, only once, Jaime confessed that he did not think his love really loved him. He still felt sick about his response to Jaime that she loved him as much as she could really love anybody besides herself. Not because it wasn't true (it was and Jaime knew it too) but he did not have to say it and hurt him. And it changed their relationship afterwards. Some things perhaps should be left unsaid. But he often felt that he let his friend down by not saying more.

There was only response he could give Greatjon.

"Aye. But I must speak with her. I want to tell her. She needs to know why this is right. I want her to understand. Please."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have too many ideas right now and may have to take a break to sort them out (and more accurately viciously cull them, remembering with a shiver my horrible attempt of writing a dragon dream fill).
> 
> As I was writing this scene, I thought about regrets. A friend told me that she had no regrets and I told her that is because she hadn't really lived. Ughhh, I am truly an awful friend....


	11. haiku

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> not a chapter - just a random poem

Ev'ry night it comes  
the taste, the smell, the feelings  
so sweet yet burning

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sansa's scribbles in her journal.
> 
> I am not a poet (lol) - just trying something different.


	12. The meeting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sansa meets Addam in the stockroom.

Pacing in the cold stockroom, his thoughts were scattered with what he should say and what he wanted say. The only thing he knew was that he could never leave her.

After that moment he saw her, it was only her. At first, he thought it was that burning lust that warriors get after battle - how her scent and curvaceous body, the sight of her perfect breasts straining from her tight dress, intoxicated him that first night. Then it was the innocence of her eyes. The sweetness of her voice. Her kindness and grace. A shining light amidst the darkness - so pure, much too good, much too good for a man like him. 

He knew that if he were with Jaime when he and his men cut down the Stark men and household, he would have ruthlessly killed any of her friends she fondly talked about - Jory, Fat Tom (who she said was just sturdy), Wyl, Heward, Desmond, Cayn and many others. She hated Jaime who killed Jory, hissing that Jory was worth ten of Jaime, a pompous ass (which he acknowledged was actually true although a bit harsh). But it could have easily been him that cut Jory open. He could not feel guilty - as his lord said, it was 'Kill first' otherwise 'die first.' But would she or could she understand? 

Laughing to himself, he remembered scoffing at Jaime who went on how perfect his love was - even went as far as saying that sun was not as bright as her smile. He remembered pretending to gag and laughing at the fool, the fool in love. Then when Addam saw how Jaime suffered for that love, he vowed it would never be him - he would not be a man led by his cock.

Now he was out of his mind thinking about her. While she is not the goddess he thought she was in Kingslanding, she was better, more attainable (even though he could still not have her). Caring for her while she was weak from her injuries, he knew that she was human. Yet her imperfections, her slight snort when she truly laughs, her playful sassiness, and her fits of anger, were so lovable. He loved how loyal she was, fiercely defending her brother - she knew him to be a fool, but no one, other than a Stark, can say that, especially to her face.

He loved her but he wasn't sure she loved him still or whether he was now just a close friend, like her Smalljon. Perhaps she only came to visit him that one night because he was injured, and she probably already visited Smalljon before she tended his leg wounds (he faintly remembered her saying something about Smalljon that night although the memories of her kneeling between his legs he could never forget). She never came through that hidden door since. Did that not explain it all?

Suddenly, the door of the stockroom opened inwards. In came a giggling Sansa with her eyes covered by Smalljon. Pushing the door closed with his back, Smalljon lifted his big paws and whispered, "Surprise."

Sansa immediately squealed, jumped into his outreached arms, and hugged him tight. 

"I miss you so much," she said.

"And I you." He looked at Smalljon, nodding at the door and gesturing him to leave.

"I cannot leave her alone with you. It would not be right," rumbled Smalljon.

"You can and you will." Addam moved threatening towards Smalljon who began to hunch down ready to attack.

Sansa came quickly between the two, with her back towards Smalljon. 

"Please, Ser Addam. He is right - it would not be right." 

"But it is right that you are alone with Smalljon? Why is that? Why is he acting as your Sword, always by your side?" Addam yelled.

"We were not alone. We walked with all the serving ladies and boys among us until we got to this room with you in it. Smalljon would never do me any harm. He brought me to you after I told him how much I missed you."

"Smalljon, tell me and tell her whether you brought her here because she missed me."

"I brought her here because you asked for her, and my father asked me to bring her to you."

Addam was amazed how easily Smalljon deflected his question, not admitting his part in this charade. Perhaps he underestimated him - he now remembered his lord mentioned that the Umbers were cunning.

Sansa smiled brightly at both. He could see Smalljon just melting - the softness in his eyes and the tenderness in his grin. The giant man child loved her too. There was truly no guile in him.

"Smalljon is my friend and can be trusted. He knows how you risked everything to save me. He would not betray me, and I would never betray him," she spoke with such quiet confidence and assurance. Usually he would be skeptical of such words, but he could see that they were true - Smalljon would do anything for the princess.

"We are to be the second group - you, me, the Umbers and some of the other Northern houses. Your mother, your great uncle and your uncle will be with your brother in the first group heading to the Twins for the double weddings of your brother and uncle. It was decided that you are to wed Smalljon." Often the best first attack was a direct one.

He watched her face scrunched in surprise. Lady Sansa did not expect this and only gasped, "What?"

Smalljon then spoke up quickly, "My lady, don't be aggrieved. My father arranged the marriage when the Freys pressed for your hand to the Little Walder. We needed to keep you safe. Ser Addam agreed."

She looked at Smalljon's sad face, seeing his hurt. "Nay, I was not upset, just surprised. If I were to marry, I would want to marry a man who I have affections for." 

She held out her hand, and the giant sadly shook his head. 

Addam then realized the sick absurdity in all of this. She did care for and would never shame Smalljon, who loved her but knew she did not feel the same for him. And he loved her but knew he could never dishonor her or cause her any grief. He could not cause her more grief by making her choose, when really there was no better choice. He knew it but he didn't want to accept it. They could run and hide but his lord would find them; and he could not let that happen. Better Smalljon than either Tyrion, Jaime, or even Lancel. The only Lannister worthy of her is his lord, and he would never marry again.

"I promised you that I would take you before anyone could take you. But I don't know if I could keep you safe - the Lannister gold could buy anyone, the Faceless Men, anywhere and everywhere.... You are safer here, you are the Northern princess, you belong in the North. Smalljon would care for and protect you; and I will serve you both." Each word tasted like ashes in his mouth, and he proceeded to kneel in front of the two.

Smalljon stopped him and easily picked him up. "There are no need for vows. Words are like flies. I know what is in your heart, and that you would fight for her. That is all that is needed. In the North, we do not bind people with vows. We do not promise to do right - we just act in the right way."

Smalljon was a good man, solid and strong. 

They held hands in a small circle, with the heads bowed for a moment. 

Moments before there was such joy in the room, but now there was such solemnity.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just don't think that Greatjon would let them speak alone. He never promised that and technically Addam did not ask. The Umbers are "low cunning" like Tywin said.
> 
> With Smalljon in the room, I made everything so difficult for not only our two but poor Smalljon who got his ass kicked and now his heart crushed. 
> 
> [I also made it difficult for me - how to get to the end game without a major character death or two? Diana Ross' song "Do you know" is playing in my head. Frankly, I do not have a clue yet.]
> 
> I think tonight there would be three persons who are crying in their sleep... [plus me - sob!!!]
> 
> I was somewhat inspired by King Arthur, Queen Guinevere and Sir Lancelot.


	13. The Feast

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The feast announcing the betrothals.

Every moment his lady was gently smiling at her betrothed felt like one of Smalljon's punches to his gut.

He did not want to hate her. But Addam could not help but feel betrayed even though she truly owed him nothing. Someone should have stopped her abuse because there was no reason or any advantage gained for doing so. It was idiotic. And frankly, it was just plain wrong. Because he finally did what was right did not mean that he should get any grand prize - to be entitled to her affections or her shy smiles. In fact, he should have done more sooner. He regretted bringing her to the King, regretted not immediately sending for his Lord, and regretted not taking her away when it was clear the king was mad and incompetent. And mostly Addam was angry with himself for regretting not taking her when they bathed. His lady was doing what is right and acting appropriately, and he knew it.

He wanted to hate Smalljon, but he could not. More than decent, a really good man, a man his lady deserved. He could not fault him for loving Sansa because she is so easy to love. Addam could see in his eyes the hurt and sadness, now understanding why the man sought to spar with him and best him.

When her brother and Greatjon announced their betrothal at the feast, the young couple stood up, with both blushing and smiling shyly, to the hearty cheers of most of the men. Smalljon immediately stood protectively to the left side of Sansa with his father flanking her right. It was both a message and a threat - she was under the protection and care of the fiercest Northern house as his brothers stood behind him.

His heart sank that some of the bastards in the audience wanted them to kiss even though the king, her brother, was glaring dangerously. Smalljon resoundingly shouted no to such spectacle as she was a lady to be respected, making him sigh with some relief. But Addam noted with some dismay that most of the Freys and their men did not join in the cheers or the cat calls. Greatjon was right to be suspicious of them, not wanting his lady anywhere near them or their home. Addam could not help but wonder if the first group will be heading towards a trap.

Throughout the feast, he stayed in his seat, so far from the main table. He would not shame her although he wanted to take his fist and shove it down the throat of an ogling Bolton man who was sitting next to him who wondered aloud to much raucous laughter if her hair down there was also red.

During the feast, she pretended to be a blushing bride, remembering the shy and slightly coquettish glances Lady Margaery gave to King Joffrey. She could maintain this facade if she could not look at either of them squarely in the face, definitely not at Addam as that would make her cry. The news in the stockroom still shook her - it felt like looking into the warped mirrors in the mummers tents as nothing seemed to be as she thought they were. But her hands gave her away as they trembled so much that she had to grasp them together to try to stop the trembling. Looking at her for permission that she granted, Smalljon held her tiny hands with one large hand. His finger lightly drew circles on the her clenched fist, immediately relaxing them and calming her. They were still friends - that has not changed.

She whispered, "Smalljon, you are too good to me."

At the same time she whispered to him, he said quietly, "You are skittish just like a frightened filly."

In mock anger, she could not help teasing, "Smalljon, did you just compare a lady to an animal?"

Torrhen, who overheard the exchange, blurted, "I have been called much worse by him, this uncouth man you are to wed, my lady. He called me an..."

Before Smalljon could retort, Greatjon loudly shushed his boys and looked softly at his soon to be good daughter.

"My little lady, my sons need to learn manners but I only have myself to blame - I was their mum for many years."

She smiled at the big man. "You and your young men are truly fine men."

If only. If only she had not gone to Kingslanding. Nay, that wasn't true, because just a year before, she wouldn't be happy living all of her life in the North and definitely in the northernmost keep. If only she had not met Addam, she would have been overjoyed being married to a good man, someone who she trusted and cared for, and to be part of this family of imposing looking men who were all so gentle and kind. She could not help but think of her father's last words to her - " _when you are old enough, I will make you a match with a high lord who is worthy of you, someone brave and gentle and strong._ "

Smalljon was everything her father promised, but her heart chose another.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The words in italics are from "A Game of Thrones" by GRRM.


	14. The Preparations

She came to his room later that night, but she was holding the hand of her betrothed. Smalljon stood protectively in front of her as if he could shield her from him, as if he would try to hurt her. He could see that the two has come to some understanding.

"My lady and Smalljon, what more news do you have for me?" Addam exasperatedly asked.

"Ser Addam, I want you to help train our men. With more than half going north, we cannot rely on our size and brute strength. The South is different from the North - the people, the terrain and the climate." Her voice wavered, uncertain of his reaction.

"They do not trust me." 

It was true. Most of the Northern commanders still thought he was a traitor and scoffed at the use of subterfuge and the use of pursuit (of drawing the enemy in or out), preferring a more direct approach. Thus, when he wasn't sparring with Smalljon, Addam was working with Blackfish on various drills for the Rivermen, whose fighting style were more similar to his. It was Blackfish's forces that led most of their recent skirmishes to much success, but those forces were soon leaving to the Twins.

"But they trust Smalljon - teach him and he will teach you our ways. Our men are large and strong and fierce, not as quick and agile and disciplined as the Southern forces. Our strength in the North may be our weakness in the South."

Smalljon interjected, "I learned a lot about my weak points in sparring with you. I want our men to be well prepared against the Lannister forces. Lady Sansa told me that you said that it is important not only to know your enemy but yourself."

Addam could not help to note wryly that they used his words, or more accurately the words of his lord, to persuade him. But these two were right - it was true that even the best of plans could be foiled by poor execution.

At first, there was much tension between them because he frankly was having a hard time with their betrothal and especially because Smalljon and Lady Sansa got along so well. He was still angry and hurt and could not understand how she seemed to act as nothing was wrong, like nothing changed when everything did. She took him aside and told him that she wanted him to stay and instead of dwelling on things that may come to naught, they had more pressing matters to focus on. It reminded him of what Greatjon told him that night - that if he was with her, he had to be with the North. It was what she was, what Smalljon was.

Each night, Lady Sansa, Smalljon and he would discuss the training of the forces of the second group that mainly comprised of the Umber men, the Norrey men, the Mormont warriors, and the Flint men. They were mainly big men, slowed down by their heavy armor, and would be easy targets for his lord's archers. They fought best in close combat situations where their natural brute strength wore down their opponents.

Addam pointed out the weaknesses that the Lannisters would exploit and their strengths. They all decided that the focus would be the shields and spears for the foot soldiers - forming multiple shield walls that not only protected the men, pushed their enemy back, but also flexibly opened and closed to allow for their long bow archers to propped high to shower arrows on their enemy and for the men to draw some of their enemy in to be bludgeoned to death with axes, war hammers and short swords by their berserkers. Smalljon saw how this technique was used by the Ironmen, but noted that they lacked the discipline to use the technique well.

They spoke with Greatjon, the lead commander of the second group, who listened and looked proudly at his eldest who presented their idea to him. With Greatjon's support, stronger shields and longer more deadly spears were made and all the men worked on creating strong shield walls. It was decided that the second group would delay their march south for another two or three weeks to allow time for the new weapons to be forged and them to master the shield wall.

Because of the heat of the South, the Northerners were persuaded to leave behind their heavy armor that overheated them and slowed them down but instead were outfitted with lighter chain mail and armor. They begun to run more structured drills to build their stamina and to better coordinate their movements.

For the cavalry, they were told to ride at slants as the Westerosi knights' vision were limited due to their full armor. Since the armor is impervious to most swords and spears, the key tactic was to unhorse the knights so that the foot soldiers could brain them with their battle axes and hammers.

What impressed Addam as he worked with Smalljon and his men were how the Northerners so passionately identified with the North. Many of his men he previously led joined the Lannister forces for mainly monetary reasons; and thus, there was always a risk of defections. Here, he knew that these men would fight to the death to defend the North. These are the men who would protect their princess or die trying.

As he threw himself into the preparations, he tried to not think of his little princess, who actually was blossoming even more, bolstered by the support and protection of her betrothed. The Umbers did not stifle her (like her family who treated her as if she were made of porcelain) as he thought they would but instead Smalljon and his family kept her informed and listened to her observations even though they did not necessarily always agreed with them. Addam could see why she loved the Umbers. He even discovered that Smalljon had Dacey continue her defense training, with Dacey now serving as her Shield. When asked of the respect the Umbers gave to the Northern princess, Smalljon said that his family fought often against wildlings whose spear wives were among the most brutal and vicious and conniving, fighting not only for themselves but their children. They knew better than to underestimate women. Both laughed as Smalljon also recounted how she almost tore off his head when he grabbed the last lemoncake - Sansa did love her sweets!

After the first group left with Theon departing for Pyke to secure the alliance of the Ironmen, Lady Sansa took on an even larger role and led the feasts, and her simple words of gratitude and of her pride to be a Stark among the Northerners before every meal uplifted the spirits of the men more so in his mind then the king's boastings in the prior feasts. Every day, escorted by Greatjon, the princess will walk by and view the training of the second group, complimenting one man or another on some move. Each man melted at her kind words, blushing. Addam was surprised that she knew the names of many, from the squires to the commanders. It reminded him of her words about what she would have done if she were Queen, how ' _love was a surer route to the people's loyalty than fear_.'

With the king gone, Greatjon included both Smalljon and Lady Sansa on the strategy meetings although he could not have Addam join them yet. Smalljon was proud of his place among the commanders and of how their lady was quickly accepted by the other commanders. The preparations were going well. The remaining forces were strongly united, with the Boltons and the Freys leaving with the first group.

It was the calm before the storm.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I will work on this chapter more, which is truly a filler chapter. I want to show how the three form a working relationship in preparing for the upcoming battle. I will go back and edit to show more of their interactions instead of focusing on the preparations itself. I kinda got excited about the shield wall! Lol!!!!
> 
> The quote in italics is from GRRM.


	15. Treachery

Sansa could not sleep. Something was wrong - the problem was the numbers! There should be more men in the first group, but even she could tell that the number of men she saw during her daily walks with Greatjon almost matched the number of the men that left with her family. 

Addam would know. 

Racing through the secret corridor, she quietly knocked on Addam's hidden door and heard nothing. 

She opened the door and whispered, "Addam." 

Seeing his sleeping body, she walked to him and gently shook him to awaken. After the first shake, her neck was gripped so hard that she squeaked. Immediately, she was released.

"Sansa, you could have died!" Addam hissed. But he softened when he saw tears in her blue eyes.

She wanted to sob in fear, in relief and in shame (as she should have know better - he told her to not touch him while he was asleep because of his defense reflex). But she must stay strong and not crumble in front of him.

"There is something wrong - why is my brother's troop so small? The Riverlands forces number twenty thousand, and the northern forces number twenty thousand. We have approximately fifteen thousand men with us, including five thousand Riverlands men that remained behind, which means that there should be twenty-five thousand men with my brother, fifteen thousand Riverlands force and ten thousand Northern force. But when I watched them leave, they did not seem seem to have such numbers, about the same number we have. Am I wrong in my math?"

Wiping the sleep from his eyes, Addam tried to focus. She was right - her numbers were adding correctly, but the reality did not match the totals.

"The Boltons left first, taking with them three thousand, as the lead... But you are right, that doesn't explain the large discrepancy. We will talk to Greatjon."

Grabbing her hand, they raced to Greatjon's room. He was still up, talking with Smalljon.

"Lady Sansa and Addam, what brings you here?" he asked.

"The first group had less men than planned. Do you know what happened?" asked Addam.

"Lord Edmure petitioned and the King granted the release of half of the Riverlands forces to take back their lands but I refused that any in my group be released and luckily Blackfish backed me up as we need our numbers to take Casterly Rock. That means that the first group comprised of fifteen thousand men, the same number as our group."

"Ser Addam told me that the Bolton men left first. Why?" asked Sansa.

"Bolton said that they are provide reconnaissance - provide intelligence to the main host," Smalljon replied.

"But that seems such a large force for that purpose - usually ten men, never more than thirty. With those numbers, anyone could see it coming. The element of surprise would be gone. Even though their numbers are too big for surprise, it is too small for most engagement with the enemy - they would be decimated!" exclaimed Addam.

"Bolton, that bottom feeder, would never put himself at such risk. This must be a trap!" shouted Greatjon, remembering the Battle of Greenfork and the brave Stark loyalists who volunteered their lives to be the decoy.

His son quickly sent five riders to try to catch up with the slower moving main host that had a week head start and warn them of threat of Bolton treachery.

Ten other riders were sent to herd the riverlands troop back to the second group. Greatjon sent another five to the North raise their men.

Their new weapons and shields were not yet ready. It did not make sense to split the second group. They had to wait and prepare for a strike. Small number of their troops formed a defense parameter with the rest in the keep. 

The next few days, she was so worried that she could not eat. It took the efforts of both of her men to guilt her into eating some bread and meat.

She could not sleep and had horrific dreams which reminded her of little Rickon's dreams which she now knew were visions of the future. Her brother's head sewn onto Grey Wind's body. Her mother a wraith with cold eyes. Her young brothers in terror. Two boys burning. She could not speak of the dreams for fear they came true like the way Rickon's dreams came true. Could they be visions of the future? 

She spent many hours in the sept praying to each of the gods. That was where Addam found her, kneeling in front of the Stranger.

"Sansa, you must rest. You are a Stark - the men look up to you and follow you. If you act like there is no hope, you will destroy their fighting spirit. The war is won not merely by strength but by sheer determination, and oft by an almost foolish belief of a victory. _It is the spirit of men who follow and of the man who leads that gains the victory_."

"I am scared," she whispered. "When I sleep, I have such horrific dreams."

He hugged her tightly, the first time they embraced since her return. She fitted perfectly in his arms, and her trembling stopped.

"Please stay with me when I sleep - I had nightmares that you took away. Please... I feel safe in your arms."

Her wet blue eyes pled with him. He could never refuse her.

"But they would never allow me in your room..."

"I will come to your room through the secret door."

Addam knew that it was a mistake. But it felt right - when he held her tight, she no longer whimpered in her sleep but instead nuzzled and nestled herself into his chest. Since her return, her beauty blossomed with her joy with reuniting with her family and friends and her regaining the weight she lost. It has been so long since he was with a woman, but he could not, keeping his hands squarely on her back and willing his hardness to go away. Closing his eyes, he imagined that she was his lady wife in his arms, which made him smile in his sleep.

He woke up to a smiling Sansa who giggled at his look of surprise.

Sansa laughingly said, "You drool in your sleep."

He saw that her hair looked damp and laughed.

"I miss this - I miss you and your smile," she whispered.

"I miss this too, my lady. Now you need to get to your room before they find you missing. It is a new day and we have much to do." 

Before she left his room, she smiled to him and breathed out her thanks. That would be her last light moment for a long time.

Her brother's body came back in pieces - first his fingers, toes, dick until finally his head sewn onto Grey Wind's carcass. They would have tortured her mother but she heard Blackfish gave her the mercy of quick death before killing himself. There were no news of her uncle Edmure. Hearing of the unrest from Theon, the Ironmen captured Winterfell, and her younger brothers were rumored to be killed. They had numerous enemies on all sides.

She thought it would break her but it made her more focused and more determined. She would never wed any of those Bolton bastards or the inbred Freys or bloody Theon, the turncoat, to give them legitimacy to their claim of king of the north. She did not cry - instead she threw herself in planning and defense training, whaling at the straw dummies. Her men saw her bravery and determination, and each vowed to fight for her, until their last breath. 

With her trusted circle around her, she held her head high and declared to her men they remain unbowed against the tyranny and evil around them, that they do not treat with deceivers, that they would rise again. Winter is coming. The men cheered and proclaimed her Queen of the North and the Trident, with the Umbers first to swear fealty like they did for her late brother.

She didn't come to him at night. She confided to him that the waking nightmare was worse than her dreams. There was naught he could do, naught anyone could do. But he would prove her wrong. He would make her safe and she will smile once more.

They were able to amass an additional twenty-five thousand men with Greatjon calling on the North for reinforcements, the Riverlands troop that returned, the scraggly survivors from the first group that did not switch sides to the Freys and the Boltons. 

Addam, along with Lord Torghen Flint and two Tully deputies, snuck out from the safety of Riverrun to meet with and organize these additional forces. Each of the men wore one of Addam's sets of clothing containing Lannister colors, and blended seamlessly with the forces led by Jaime. 

With his neatly trimmed beard he grew to look more Northern for her, he was unrecognizable to the men he led before. Seeing his former men and knowing his friend Jaime must be nearby, Addam had a moment of guilt and regret for his betrayal of his lord and his deception against his friend. With just one loud call, he could turn in himself and her men. He might be able to earn back his lord's trust, the man who effectively made him who he was.

But then her face flashed in his mind, he became resolute and continued on his mission to meet up with the new forces. He would keep her safe and rid her of her enemies. Her enemies were his.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am sorry - I could not save them all. 
> 
> The words in italics are from George Patton. I was also inspired by Sun Tzu and by the saying "Fake it until you make it." As a teen, I thought the saying meant to fake an orgasm (lol)....
> 
> I thought it would be ironic that it is math/addition, allegedly Sansa's weakness, that alerted the second group of Bolton's treachery. Unfortunately, it was too late to stop it from happening but they are prepared for the coming attack. 
> 
> This chapter is still being worked on but I decided to release it anyways.


	16. Before Riverrun battle/siege - Sansa's journal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Excerpt of Sansa's journal (right after Addam and his small hand selected team leave).

I did not cry. 

They all think my blood is ice. I heard the Flint mountain men murmuring that I must be a wight. Even Smalljon looked confused and worried that I was not grieving.

It is naught because I have no tears left. If I started to cry, I don't know if I could stop. I fear my tears would be so much that it would fill the moat around Riverrun, overflow Red Fork and Tumblestone rivers until they reach the Sunset Sea.

But Addam understands - he does not seek to comfort me. When we are weakest, we must appear strong. 

There were traitors in our midst; and there may be traitors still. I can only trust the Umbers and I have to and want to trust Addam. 

The Lannisters will come and I can see him troubled and almost wavering. Like Smalljon and his brothers who were raised to be Northerners, Addam was raised to be a westerman, loyal vassal to his lord Tywin, and a commander of his armies. Even now, he would refer to Lord Tywin as his lord, yet he never referred to Robb as his king even before.

I see the bonds that the Umbers built with their men, from battles fought together, won or lost, from burying their fellow warriors, and from celebrating living to fight another day. I know that he would soon face the forces he once led and fought with - the men he formed bonds with. 

Strangely, my brother and his advisors believed he would not turn on us, placing him in the second group that was to attack the westerlands, his home and his people. They believed his loyalty to me would be greater than his loyalty to the Lannisters. I hope they were not wrong, like they were to trust the Freys and the Boltons.

Addam told me that all warfare is built in deception. Were his words a lesson or a threat? Why did he give me a knife, telling me to use it to protect against my enemies, even against himself?

He doesn't believe yet in himself. But I believe in him. Only he and I know what he plans to do. It will be an act of ultimate betrayal, and I need to steel my heart if he turns.

May all the gods, old and new, have mercy, the mercy of quick death, on our enemies. May he forgive me for what I have asked him to do.

Winter is coming.


	17. Prayer (poem)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Not a chapter. A prayer (poem) in her journal.

O Gods please grant my wish and fulfill my desires

Let me not spiral into neverending gloom and despair

Whilst we prepare for the long war, our spirits must remain high and even be higher

Let me remain strong and steel my heart for what will come to bear

If this is to be the night of our deaths and the place of our graves

Let us go out with the full po'er of the North and Trident, fighting until our souls and bodies are claved

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sonnets are tough (lol) so I did a zippy version. Inspired by Lin-Manuel Miranda's reading a sonnet as an acceptance speech.
> 
> Still working in my mind the direction of the next chapters but I will finish this story.


	18. Treachery Part II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And so it begins...

Addam and his small band separated with Flint heading north to meet with the Northern forces (many arriving steathily by the Northern trade ships and Riverlands merchant ships) and a Mallister man heading south to meet with the Riverlands forces that returned to their homes and were now called back. Addam and a Riverlands man, who was to play the role of his squire, remained in the Lannister camp, to collect intelligence.

As they came upon the Lannister men, Addam could not help but be impressed by them. The Lannister forces were so disciplined, orderly and more subdued in contrast to the rowdy and messy Northern camp. Each person had a distinct role, and knew exactly what his role was. Hierarchy was of supreme importance with each man trained to automatically obey without question his superior(s). As his lord said, "There is a tool for every task, and a task for every tool.” And Lord Tywin made sure that each of his tools was sharpened and ready to be used.

Knowledge was retained at the very top, with only a few select persons privy to the master plan, and then disseminated down, and only when absolutely necessary. Capturing a Lannister man for information was often a futile exercise - it was like milking a stone his lord would often scoff. Addam was well aware of this but the Tully bannerman, a man from House Piper, with him did not. And this Piper man unwittingly was key to his plan.

Waiting until it was clear that the others safely left the Lannister camp, Addam strode assuredly to the head tent, with the slight Piper man following him. As he passed by the Lannister men, he nodded curtly as if he were still a commander, and watched each man automatically bow and let him pass.

The head tent was guarded by two trusted men. Addam quickly and quietly told them who he was and that he successfully infiltrated the Northern camp. They immediately let him pass.

Addam paused before he entered, with the poor Piper fool behind him. She asked for so much, but she had to know where his loyalties stand. It was the ultimate test, and he must pass.

Lord Tywin was hunched over, staring at a map, and with his back towards Addam, he irritably motioned for him to leave without looking up.

"My lord Tywin, I caught you at a bad moment - I respectfully beg you leave."

His lord's body stiffened, hearing the words that Addam always greeted him ever since he was a young ward of House Lannister. It started with Tywin initially irritated with his interruptions, but it later became an inside joke as it was Tywin who called for him at the end.

Without turning, Tywin sneered, "So her red cunt was not sweet enough to keep you? Or did her Umber giant and his family of giants chased you away from the ice princess?"

"She is an ice princess, a frigid bitch," he grounded out as the Piper squire gasped in surprise, "You always told me that 'You cannot eat love, nor buy a horse with it, nor warm your halls on a cold night' and you were right, like you always were."

Tywin finally turned around slowly. His left eyebrow lifted and he spoke quietly, "So she forsook you, didn't she? She didn't need you anymore. She had the Umber boy."

Addam started - his lord's aim was true, piercing his heart and bringing forth his insecurities that he tried to suppress, tried to bury. Lady Sansa was the Queen of the North and the Trident - she was naught for him, too high for men like him. And they all knew. Of course, Sansa knew - his lady was no fool, so calculating and now so cold after the brutal deaths of her family. Addam tried to school his face but his lord looked with a mixture of pity and satisfaction at his momentary pained look.

Looking squarely at his lord's eyes, he snarled, "I don't need her!" He grabbed the poor Piper man, took his sharp dagger and sliced his neck open and threw his dead body to the ground.

His lord grimly smiled, nodded and motioned him to the map.

"So start from the beginning - the numbers?" his lord asked.

Addam stepped over the dead man. Looking at the map and the Northern positions clearly marked, it was evident that the Northerners had many traitors. Why then would his lord need him?

The night before, Addam went over their plan so many times, trying to think of all of the possibilities, trying to think at least seven steps ahead like the way he did when he played cyvasse with his lord. He never defeated his lord - the best result was a single stalemate. Sleepless, his mind went through the iterations of the plan, weighing each and discarding many.

Why would his lord take him, a traitor, back?

He went systematically to the beginning and mused whether Lord Tywin already knew from that first night that he saw her, a girl whom the King set aside for his rose queen. And if he did, why did he assign Addam to watch over their prize? What angle was Tywin trying to exploit, what ploy to advance himself, and most importantly, the legacy of his family name? It could not be a coincidence that her room was later moved next to his. If Jaime knew that he would steal Sansa away, Tywin assuredly would have suspected as well. That made him question the ease they escaped, not meeting any Lannister men chasing them, only lowly brigands preying on hapless travelers. Addam could not help but feel that he was merely a puppet being moved about and controlled by his master. And yet, it mattered naught the set up of the board, the vast odds against him, he only needed one piece to win. He remembered how the Imp defeated him with only one piece as he made one stupid and careless move after another, so confident that he would win.

Looking at the map, he felt his lord's eyes taking measure of him, noting every breath, every motion, every hint of a false note, and noting every way Addam disappointed him, running off with their prized prisoner and betraying him. At that very moment, Addam finally realized how Jaime felt whenever he was in his father's presence - the feeling of being judged against a rubric of the seemingly impossible, what was required of a Lannister, knowing that he was damned and destined to fail. Jaime always crumbled under the weight of such expectations and disappointment, not even able to form words to make his quips, his typical defense mechanism.

Sometimes, the best defense is offense.

Addam looked at him and smirked, surprising his lord.

"Do you approve?" he asked the man he respected above all else. Only a short time ago, his lord's words meant everything to him. Now so much has changed. Could his lord see that, that change in him - could he see right through him?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I confess that I am quite intimidated about trying to write Tywin. I have tried so many times and frankly he evades me like water that I tried to cup with my tiny hands (the one thing that I have in common with Mr.Trump). So I took the only route available - Tywin through the eyes of others.
> 
> Bows head but I will try again (and probably fail in a different way - lol, my first boss marveled that I do not make the same mistake twice for the obvious reason that I make so many different types of mistakes).

**Author's Note:**

> I am inspired by everyone and everything - TommyGinger, BlueCichlid, David Bowie, the trees surrounding my house making me feel like I live in a tree house, little acts of kindness (they are actually quite huge), light mist of rain blanketing the DMV area (so delightful and great for my garden of peonies and roses who thrive despite or because of my lack of care), and the beauty all around us.
> 
> I originally planned to script the major events out and then write the entire story before uploading. But I realize that that is not how I operate - I just do things with a general framework that is extremely flexible and giving (like me I like to think). 
> 
> Anything and everything goes - which means events will be out of order. I may even try a new style of writing mid stream. There may be inconsistencies - oops, sorry in advance! There may be loose ends, plot bunnies and dust bunnies (abandoned subplots), etc.


End file.
